MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


A   STORY  FOR   GIRLS. 


BY 

SOPHY    WINTHEOP. 


AN  SON  D.    F.   RANDOLPH  .&    COMPANY, 

770  BROADWAY,  COR.  9TH  STREET. 

NEW    YORK. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

ANSON  D.  F.  RANDOLPH  &  Co., 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


EowiED  O.  JKXKINS, 

PRINTER  AND  STEREOTYPER, 

SO  North  William  Street,  N.  Y. 


:  By  all  means  use  sometimes  to  be  alone. 

Salute  thyself ;  see  what  thy  soul  doth  wear. 
Dare  to  look  in  thy  chest,  for  'tis  thine  own  : 

And  tumble  up  and  down  what  thou  find'st  there. 

Dresse  and  undresse  thy  soul  :  mark  the  decay 
And  growth  of  it ;  if  with  thy  watch,  that,  too, 

Be  down,  then  winde  up  both,  since  we  shall  be 
Most  surely  judg'd,  make  thy  accounts  agree. 


'All  things  are  busie  ;  only  I 

Neither  bring  honey  with  the  bees. 
Nor  flowers  to  make  that,  nor  the  husbandrie 
To  water  these." 


5 


2075654 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"TTTHEN  I  was  a  little  girl, -I  had  a  great 
»  »  fondness  for  oranges  ;  not  at  all  the  ordi- 
nary liking  for  that  agreeable  fruit  which  exists 
in  every  well-balanced  infantile  mind,  but  some- 
thing deeper  and  more  absorbing  ;  so  that  when 
I  looked  forward,  as  children  will,  to  future  glory 
and  affluence,  or  when,  as  children  will  in  other 
moods,  I  sighed  for  the  unattainable,  it  was 
always  orange  of  which  I  thought  as  the  prime 
cause  of  the  bliss  or  the  despair. 

I  had  a  constant  sense  of  other  people  having 
oranges  when  I  had  none,  and  a  belief  that  as 
soon  as  I  left  any  company  oranges  were  imme- 
diately passed  around  ;  and  I  have  been  captured 
more  than  once  creeping  down  stairs  in  my  little 
night-gown,  when  I  was  supposed  to  be  safe  in 

(7) 


g  3/755  ROBERTS'  FORTUXE. 

bed,  full  of  the  conviction  that  I  should  discover 
the  family  indulging  in  this  base  festivity,  and 
put  them  to  an  open  shame. 

I  was  telling  the  girls  this  as  we  sat  this  even- 
ing sucking  a  trio  of  lovely  Havanas,  and  toast- 
ing our  feet  at  the  fire.  Of  course,  we  all  laughed, 
but  since  the  girls  have  gone  off  to  their  own 
room  I  have  sat,  still  sucking  a  little  and  looking 
at  the  fire,  and  more  serious  thoughts  have  come 
into  my  mind. 

Of  course  .these  ridiculous  notions  left  me 
years  ago,  but  I  am  afraid  they  were  the  index 
to  a  wrong,  unlovely  habit  of  mind  which  did 
not  leave  me  so  long  ago — which  I  am  afraid  has 
not  all  left  me  yet.  I  should  be  ashamed  to  tell 
any  one  else  but  you,  dear  old  padlocked  book ; 
but  \  am  really  afraid  it  has  not  all  left  me  yet. 

Somehow  it  is  natural  for  me  still  to  think  of 
other  people  as  having  things  that  I  haven't,  and 
to  take  it  for  granted  that  they  are  glad  to  have 
me  out  of  the  way,  that  they  may  have  their 
good  times  without  me.  For  instance,  to-night, 
though  we  four  girls  have  had  a  pleasant  evening 
together,  and  I  have  been  making  a  fool  of  myself 
with  the  greatest  success  for  their  entertainment, 
I  can't  avoid  a  sense  of  relief  now  that  they  are 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  g 

gone,  and  a  conviction  that  they  are  enjoying 
themselves  a  great  deal  better  at  this  moment, 
sitting  curled  up  on  their  bed,  as  I  don't  doubt 
they  are,  eating  the  mince  pie  they  bought  at 
the  bakery  in  study-hour  to-day.  Not  that  I 
feel  very  much  cut  up  about  it,  or  wish  in  the 
least  that  I  were  one  of  the  party.  That  is  almost 
the  worst  of  it.  The  fact  is,  I  am  far  too  willing 
to  sit  in  my  own  corner,  sucking  my  own  private 
oranges,  and  not  troubling  myself  with  other 
peoples'  concerns. 

Sometimes  I  do  feel  a  little  sorry  about  it,  and 
sigh  with  poor  Glory  McWhirk,  "  So  many  good 
times  in  the  world,  and  I  not  in  them  !" 

But  this  is  all  wrong,  I  know,  for  me,  a  sensi- 
ble girl,  nineteen  years  old,  with  plenty  of  money 
and  some  good  friends,  and  a  life  of  what  most 
girls  would  consider  perfect  happiness  before  me. 

To  be  sure,  I  am  lame  and  awkward,  but  long 
ago  I  learned  what  that  was  sent  me  for ;  and, 
besides,  I  know  perfectly  well  that  that  fact  has 
no  effect  whatever  on  my  real  position  among 
others,  on  the  liking  or  disliking  of  any  one 
whose  regard  I  should  care  for.  So  any  feeling 
on  that  point  is  mere  sensitiveness,  and  I  keep  it 
down  pretty  well — don't  I,  good  old  friend  ? — 


I0  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

and  never  let  it  cloud  more  than  just  a  moment's 
sunshine  for  me. 

But  on  the  whole,  as  I  said,  I  do  not  feel  half 
troubled  enough  about  these  things.  I  am  afraid 
(to  be  perfectly  honest  with  myself,  and  I  will  be 
so  to-night)  I  take  it  rather  as  a  compliment  than 
anything  else,  that  Lily  and  Jennie  think  me 
"  suck  a  queer  girl,"  and  feel  flattered  when  they 
say,  "  Oh,  don't  ask  Helen,  she  doesn't  care  any- 
thing about  such  things."  In  my  secret  heart 
(for  I  will  be  honest — "  get  thee  behind  me,  Sa- 
tan ")  I  am  apt  to  think  myself  rather  superior 
to  these  girls  ;  in  fact,  to  most  of  the  girls  I 
know,  because  I  know  my  lessons  better,  I  sup- 
pose, and  have  different  notions  of  "  fun  "  from 
theirs.  But  am  I  not  just  as  fond  of  my  kind  of 
fun  as  they  are  of  theirs,  and  don't  I  pursue  it 
just  as  steadily,  and  more  so  ?  Superior  to  Lily  ! 
perhaps  I  am,  but  she  spent  all  her  afternoons 
last  week  in  dressing  dolls  for  Mary  Green  to 
sell  at  that  church  fair.  I,  excusing  myself  with- 
out the  slightest  compunction,  on  the  ground  that 
I  never  had  any  taste  about  such  things,  lay  on 
my  sofa  reading  "  Nicholas  Nickleby."  To  be 
sure,  I  think  Lily  ought  to  have  been  doing  her 
algebra  examples,  but  that  is  nothing  to  the  case. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUXE.  I: 

It  was  good  nature,  chiefly,  that  made  her  dress 
the  dolls,  and  in  tha*t  good  nature  I  was  wanting. 

Superior  to  Jennie  !  She  is  flighty,  frightfully 
overdressed  generally,  and,  according  to  my  usual 
judgment,  shallow ;  but  she  cried  like  a  child,  Lily 
told  me,  when  she  went  to  see  Sarah  Phelps  after 
her  mother's  death,  and  comforted  and  soothed 
her  more  than  any  one  else  that  she  saw.  I  did 
not  go,  because  I  felt  as  if  it  would  be  intrusion 
for  me  even  to  look  in  upon  such  grief;  and 
when  I  saw  Sarah  next  at  school,  though  I  felt 
for  a  moment  like  putting  my  arms  around  her 
neck  and  kissing  her,  I  was  afraid  it  would  make 
her  cry,  and  all  the  girls  were  looking  on,  and 
my  old  awkwardness  came  upon  me,  and  so  I 
only  said,  "  Good  morning,"  in  the  ordinary  way. 
Now,  Sarah  jsteals  up  to  Jennie  at  every  recess, 
and  they  walk  off  together.  I  can  see  that  she 
cares  nothing  whatever  about  me,  and  has  no 
idea  how  truly  I  pity  her,  and  how  my  heart 
aches  when  I  see  her  little  sad  face  and  black 
dress  coming  into  school. 

Yes,  my  dear,  however  you  may  flatter  your- 
self at  other  times,  you  shall  look  the  truth  in 
the  face  to-night,  and  confess  that  the  lives  of 
these  girls  you  look  down  upon  with  contempt 


1 2  MISS  ROBER TS'  FOR  TUXE. 

or  regard  with  perfect  indifference,  are,  in  many 

* 

respects,  sweeter  and  truer  lives  than  yours. 

Perhaps  it  was  not  altogether  the  orange  story 
that  set  me  thinking  about  these  things. 

Yesterday  I  was  in  my  room  alone  with  the 
door  ajar,  and  heard  the  young  gentleman-board- 
ers—  disagreeable  creatures,  chiefly  remarkable 
for  very  gay  neck-ties  and  loud  voices — talking 
in  their  room  up-stairs. 

"  You've  got  some  pretty  jolly  quails  here,"  said 
one,  probably  a  visitor. 

"  Yes  ;  but  they're  such  awful  fine  ladies  you 
can't  have  any  fun  with  them,"  said  one  of  our 
young  men. 

"  Which  of  'em  do  you  like  best  on  the  whole, 
Tom  ?"  he  continued,  apparently  roused  to  a 
contemplation  of  the  subject  by  this  visitor's  re- 
mark. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Tom  (I'm  sure  I 
don't  know  which  one  Tom  is,  very  likely  the 
one  I  particularly  object  to,  who  sits  next  me  at 
table,  and  puts  vanilla,  or  something  very  like 
it,  on  his  hair  every  Sunday  morning).  "  I  used 
to  think  I  liked  the  lame  one  best — the  others 
titter  and  giggle  so — and  she's  got  a  nice  face. 
But  I  believe  she's  more  stuck-up  than  any  of 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUXE.  j^ 

'em.  /  wish  Miss  Spenser  would  come  back. 
She  was  the  nicest  little  thing  !  She  would  play 
for  a  fellow  after  dinner,  and  this  one  never  will, 
though  she  plays  splendidly  ;  tell  you  what,  I 
heard  her  one  day  when  she  didn't  know  it." 

"  There'll  never  be  anybody  like  Miss  Spenser 
again,"  echoed  the  chorus,  dismally.  "  She  used 
to  get  up  such  jolly  things  !  Do  you  remember 
that  picnic  ?"  and  they  went  off  into  a  general 
jeremiad  on  the  departure  of  that  altogether  re- 
markable young  lady,  while  I  got  up  and  shut 
my  door. 

I've  heard  of  this  Miss  Spenser  before.  The 
only  remark  I  remember  to  have  heard  Mrs. 
Green  make  was,  that  Mary  Spenser  was  the 
sweetest  girl  that  ever  lived  ;  and  our  German 
teacher  told  me  the  other  day,  that  he  had  had 
only  one  pupil  in  this  school  before  (I  am  going 
to  be  honest,  I  believe,  so  I  will  put  in  the  little 
qualifying  word)  who  had  really  mastered  the  de- 
clensions, and  that  was  Miss  Spenser, 

I  suppose  she  was  one  of  those  favored  little 
beings  who  have  a  faculty  for  everything,  and 
who  carry  a  'little  wand  in  their  hands  which 
turns  all  hearts  into  love  and  charity  before  them. 

Now  I,  Helen  Roberts,  am  not  that  sort  of 


1 4  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

girl,  and  never  shall  be.  I  am  what  people  call 
reserved.  And  so  far  as  this  reserve  is  natural 
and  not  too  vigorously  cultivated  by  me,  I  can't 
help  it.  So  I  am  not  blaming  myself  for  not  be- 
ing Miss  Spenser. 

Neither  do  I  believe  it  is  my  "  mission  "  in  Plato- 
ville  to  devote  myself  to  the  entertainment  of  the 
disagreeable  young  gentleman-boarders  at  the 
Rev.  Obadiah  Green's  "  Christian  home."  So  I 
am  not  blaming  myself  for  not  doing  that. 

Ah  !  but  if  I  only  had  in  my  heart  that  sweet 
flower  of  charity, 'its  odor  would  go  out  to  all 
that  are  in  the  house.  If  I  only  did  love  more, 
it  wotildcome,  out,  unconsciously,  without  my  try- 
ing, and  would  comfort  and  bless,  as  love  always 
does,  because  it  is  love. 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  a  "  fellowship  with 
hearts,"  which  I  could  and  ought  to  "  keep  and 
cultivate,"  but  now  it  seems  to  me  so  far  off  and 
sometimes  so  distasteful. 

There  is  only  one  thing  that  can  be  the  root  of 
this  evil  fruit.  It  is  an  ugly  word,  but  I  think  it 
is  the  true  one.  It  is  selfishness. 

Not  that  I  am  always  grossly  selfish,  but  it  is 
a  way  of  looking  at  things  through  the  medium 
of  self;  an  unloving  habit  of  mind  which,  like  a 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  ^ 

smoke  fills  the  atmosphere  of  my  heart  and  keeps 
out  all  the  free,  pure,  heavenly  airs,  and  the  flow- 
ers 'that  will  grow  only  in  them. 

I  remember  One  who  "  pleased  not  Himself." 
Men  knew  Him  that  He  was  love,  and  by  a 
blessed  instinct  sore  hearts  stole  close  up  to  Him 
and  were  healed  and  comforted.  And  so  they 
are  doing  still,  and  will  do  till  the  end  of  time. 

And  I  call  myself  His  child — His  follower ! 

Helen  Roberts  wrote  these  words,  sitting  by 
her  little  round  table  one  winter  evening,  not  a 
great  many  years  ago.  When  she  had  laid  down 
her  pen,  she  bent  a  very  humble  head  on  the 
writing-desk  before  her,  and  sat  a  long  time  per- 
fectly still. 

The  clock  ticked  loudly  on  the  mantel,  and  a 
spent  coal  occasionally  clattered  down  from  the 
grate  to  the  fender  beneath.  But  Helen  noticed 
nothing  outside  of  her  own  heart. 

When,  at  last,  she  lifted  her  face  to  the  light, 
something  that  looked  like  victory  shone  out  of 
her  eyes. 

The  orphan  girl,  very  much  alone  in  her  mental 
and  spiritual  life,  was  not  unaccustomed  to  quiet 
moments  of  looking  into  her  own  heart,  and 


!6  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE, 

watching  the  good  and  evil  growing  there  to- 
gether. But  it  was  seldom  that  the  search  went 
quite  so  deep,  or  was  quite  so  painful  as  to-night. 

The  padlocked  book  had  been  her  best  friend 
and  confidante,  yet  it  was,  for  the  most  part,  only 
that  medley  of  selected  sentiment  in  prose  and 
verse,  taking  scraps  of  legend  and  history,  and 
pretty,  girlish  thoughts  all  her  own,  which  makes 
up  the  mental  furniture  of  all  bright  and  thought- 
ful girls  anywhere  from  fourteen  to  twenty. 

The  danger  which  Helen  had  to-night  discov- 
ered herself  to  be  in  was  a  real  one.  It  had  been 
growing  with  her,  and  was,  perhaps,  fostered  by 
the  kind  of  life  she  had  led.  But  that  best  Friend 
who  watches  all  our  lives  and  cares  so  infinitely 
more  than  wre  do,  that  they  should  be  right  and 
good,  was  watching  hers  ;  and  gradually,  and  by 
one  of  those  simple  ways  which  He  often  uses, 
He  had  called  her  attention  to  the  fact.  Very 
likely  she  did  not  fully  understand  it  yet.  Per- 
haps she  exaggerated  some  of  its  features,  and 
left  others  quite  as  important  unnoticed.  But 
the  warning  was  before  her.  As  we  know  her 
better  we  shall  see  how  she  heeds  it. 

You  would  have  thought  Helen  a  pretty  pic- 
ture as,  after  locking  the  faithful  volume,  she 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUM:.  \j 

stood  for  a  moment,  the  seriousness  not  yet  gone 
from  her  face,  leaning  on  the  mantel  and  looking 
down  into  the  lire.  But  when  she  moved  to 
cross  the  room,  the  lameness  and  awkwardness 
of  which  she  had  spoken  appeared.  There  was 
a  sudden  plunge  forward,  a  quick  effort  at  recov- 
ery, and  sometimes  a  grasp  at  whatever  article 
of  furniture  stood  nearest  to  help  regain  the  lost 
balance.  It  was  painful  to  see  at  first,  and  you 
felt  sony  for  her.  But  the  clear,  brown  eyes 
looked  straightforward,  and  there  was  even 
now,  and  it  grew  upon  her  in  later  years,  an 
unconsciousness  of  anything  unusual  or  painful 
that,  to  those  who  loved  her,  had  almost  the 
charm  of  grace.  As  she  went  about  the  room 
her  face  grew  brighter,  and  when  she  turned' 
clown  the  kerosene  lamp  and  let  the  winter  star- 
light in,  she  was  singing  softly  to  herself  the  new 
song  her  music  teacher  had  given  her  that  after- 
noon :  "  But  the  Lord  is  mindful  of  his  own  ; 
He  remembers  his  children." 


"  We  scatter  seeds  with  careless  hand, 

And  dream  we  ne'er  shall  see  them  more  : 
But  for  a  thousand  years 
Their  fruit  appears, 
In  weeds  that  mar  the  land, 
Or  healthful  store." 


CHAPTER    II. 

ON  the  broad  main  street  of  Platoville  stood 
the  old  red  brick  academy,  famous  in  those 
parts  as  the  center  of  elegant  learning.  Around 
the  sacred  edifice  was  a  patch  of  earth  never 
green  .and  now  browny  -  white  with  frequent 
snows  and  incessant  ball -playing.  This  was 
crossed  at  every  possible  angle  by  narrow  paths 
of  slightly  deeper  hues  than  the  general  surface, 
all  convei-ging  to  the  rheumatic  and  much  be- 
whittled  door.  Inside  the  gloomy  portal  were 
to  be  found  respectable  recitation  rooms  and  a 
light  and  not  unpleasant  school- room,  but  the 
outer  aspect  of  the  noble  institution  was,  to  put 
it  at  the  mildest,  truly  venerable.  Opposite  the 
academy  stood  the  "  orthodox"  church,  flanked 
by  the  Baptist,  and  squinted  at  in  a  friendly  way 
from  an  acute  angle  by  the  modest  Methodist 
structure. 

Across    the    small,   three-cornered   common, 
which  a  little  above  here  divided  the  street  into 

(21) 


22  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

two,  were  the  drug-store,  which  contained  the 
post-office,  and  the  shoe-store  with  the  bakery 
in  its  rear.  The  general  "  emporium"  for  dry- 
goods  and  groceries  was  a  few  steps  farther 
up  on  that  one  of  the  streets  which  kept  the 
name  of  Main  street.  The  other  road  passed 
off  peacefully  into  the  snowy  country,  and  be- 
tween the  two,  shortly  after  they  parted,  lay  one 
or  two  narrow  and  modern  looking  cross  streets. 

On  one  of  these  (which  I  learn  has  since  taken 
the  name  of  Maple  avenue),  stood  a  row  of  small 
white  houses,  all  just  alike,  even  to  the  curve  of 
the  lightning  rods  on  their  square  cupolas,  and 
the  cramped  bay  windows  on  their  left  sides. 
Everybody  knew  who  lived  in  the  last  but  one  of 
these  houses.  And  even  the  stranger,  so  unfor- 
tunate as  to  be  ignorant  on  this  point,  "  was 
ware"  some  time  before  reaching  the  mansion, 
of  the  characters,  blazing  in  burnished  steel, 
from  the  big  door-plate—"  Rev.  O.  Green." 

Pushing  back  the  little  gate  which  barely  es- 
caped the  steep  and  narrow  steps,  you  found 
yourself  between  two  slender  Corinthian  col- 
umns, confronting  this  same  door-plate.  The  door, 
when  it  was  opened,  barely  escaped  the  front 
stairs,  and  if  you  were  rot  very  tall  you  did  not 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  2  3 

have  to  dodge  the  second  story  in  making  the 
ascent.  A  general  odor  of  cod-fish  and  fried 
pork  pursued  you  up-stairs  and  lingered  in  the 
shadowy  recesses  of  the  upper  hall. 

As  to  this  upper  hall,  the  architect  had  had 
the  best  of  intentions,  and  had  introduced  a 
merry  little  parti-colored  window  on  the  way 
up-stairs,  but  the  present  occupants  of  the  house 
were  enemies  to  flies  and  all  creatures  that  loved 
light,  and  had  nailed  a  thick  green  paper  over 
this  one  bright  spot.  Only  one  ghastly  ray  of 
blue  light  now  crept  in,  and  that  was  through 
a  small  orifice  made  by  the  irreverent  finger  of 
one  of  the  young  gentleman  -  boarders.  The 
rooms  of  the  second  story,  with  one  exception, 
were  taken  this  winter  by  a  party  of  young  la- 
dies from  the  city  of  X ,  new-comers  in  Plato- 

ville.  Helen  Roberts  paid  a  liberal  bonus  for 
the  unwonted  privilege  of  occupying  the  small 
front  chamber  alone.  Out  of  its  windows  lay 
the  broad,  white  country,  checked  off  by  rows 
of  brown  trees,  and  beyond  a  range  of  blue, 
snowy  hills,  over  which  the  sun  came  every 
morning.  The  back  room,  commanding  the 
academy  and  the  churches,  was  occupied  by 
Helen's  cousin,  Lily  Wood,  and  her  particular 


24  JffSS  ROBERTS' 

friend,  Jennie  Osbornc.  Dora,  Lily's  sister, 
aged  thirteen,  was  the  proud  occupant  of  the 
little  room  opening  out  of  it,  just  big  enough  to 
contain  a  bed  and  a  picture. 

What  freak  of  fortune  should  have  sent  these 
four  city  girls  to  winter  in  that  inclement  village, 
was  a  question  which  might  have  interested  the 
curious,  and  which,  in  fact,  did  puzzle  some  of 
the  less  wise  heads  of  Platoville  itself.  But 
when  a  papa  and  mamma  must  go  to  Europe 
with  their  eldest  daughter,  and  there  are  three 
incumbrances  to  be  disposed  of,  what  is  to  be 
done  ?  And  when  Madame  de  Moliere,  to  whom 
they  are  forthwith  taken  in  a  body,  is  "  more 
than  full  already,  my  dear  lady,  and  positecfly 
cannot  promise  a  single  vacancy  before  next 
July,"  what  but  a  very  disconsolate  and  unsettled 
party  must  that  be  that  leaves  her  door  to  take 
the  train  for  nowhere,  and  wait  for  something  to 
turn  up?  And,  under  these  circumstances, 
when  the  Rev.  Obadiah  Green,  in  the  peaceful 
pursuit  of  his  travels  and  his  duty,  (and  having 
gathered  from  the  conversation  of  the  party 
something  of  their  situation,)  falls  into  discourse 
with  Mr.  Wood,  and,  in  the  course  of  conversa- 
tion, hands  him  one  of  his  little  cards,  setting 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  2$ 

forth  the  attractions  of  his  "  Christian  home  for 
young  persons  desirous  of  pursuing  a  course  of 
study  at  the  well-known  academy  of  Plato ville," 
what,  I  say,  under  such  circumstances,  is  more 
natural  than  that  the  result  which  we  have  al- 
ready contemplated  should  come  to  pass  ? 

"  Why,  Matilda,  here  is  just  the  very  thing  for 
us,"  says  Mr.  Wood,  introducing  the  Rev.  Oba- 
diah  to  a  short  parley  with  his  pretty  wife. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  how  fortunate  we  are  !"  reiterated 
that  graceful  lady,  leaving  the  gentlemen  to 
drop  into  the  seat  back  of  the  girls,  and  laying 
her  pretty  little  braceletted  wrist  lightly  over 
Lily's  shoulder. 

"  Girls,  I  think  you  are  to  be  congratulated. 
Such  a  nice,  quiet  place — so  much  better  than  a 
fashionable  boarding  -  school.  I  shall  feel  per- 
fectly easy  about  you.  Now  there  is  nothing  to 
be  done  but  for  me  to  take  the  train  for  home  at 
Springfield — yes,  I'll  see  about  Jennie's  coming, 
dear — and  your  father  will  go  with  you  and  see 
you  nicely  settled  at  Mr.  Green's." 

"  Be  sure  and  make  Jennie  come,  won't  you, 
mother?"  said  Lily,  a  trifle  dismally. 

"  Yes,  I  will.  I'll  see  Mrs.  Osborne  this  evening. 
You  trust  me  for  that."  And  she  kept  her  promise. 
2 


26  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  We  have  found  stick  a  nice  place  for  the 
girls,  Mrs.  Osborne  —  a  good,  quiet,  Christian 
family,  and  the  school  close  by.  Lily  will  be 
perfectly  happy  if  you  will  only  let  Jennie  go, 
too.  Dora  is  so  young,  you  know,  and  Helen 
— well,  she's  a  fine  girl,  you  know — a  very  fine 
girl,  but  she's  so  quiet,  and  she  can't  go  out  as 
much  as  Lily  likes  to,  and  the  fact  is — you  will 
let  Jennie  go,  won't  you  ?" 

While  this  matter  was  being  settled,  the  girls 
were  still  on  their  way  up  into  the  dreary  north. 
The  October  night  grew  chilly,  and  darkness 
came  down  over  the  hills.  The  two  gentlemen 
sat  opposite  the  girls,  their  hats  jogging  up  and 
down  together  in  a  friendly  way  in  the  now  al- 
most deserted  car. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  man  of  business, .  after 
several  vain  attempts  to  come  to  terms,  "  now  if 
you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  name  your  price." 

"  The  price — ah — yes,"  said  the  Rev.  Obacliah, 
who  had  been  meditating  on  this  very  subject  ever 
since  he  first  fell  in  with  the  party.  "  Though  I 
regard  it  as  one  of  the  minor  considerations,  yet 
it  is  one  of  those  things  which — a — ,  the  fact  is, 
I  am  accustomed  to  view  this  matter  so  much  in 
the  light  of — a — if  I  may  say — benevolence — 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  2/ 

"  Yes,  yes,  Mr.  Green,  I  appreciate  your  deli- 
cacy, sir,  and  your — your  benevolence,  but  what 
is  your  regular  price  for  board  ?" 

Mr.  Green  smiled.  "  Indeed,  sir,  as  I  was  re- 
marking— that  is  the  very  point,  sir — indigent 
young  persons  in  the  pursuit  of — a — " 

"  But  we  are  not  indigent  young  persons,  sir. 

We  expect  to  pay  a  fair  price  and  get  a  fair  arti- 

I 
cle,  as  we  say  in  trade,  sir.     Now,  what  will  you 

take  this  party  for?" 

The  merchant  was  beginning  to  be  a  little  net- 
tled, and  inclined  to  think  it  rather  hasty  of  Ma- 
tilda (Matilda  always  was  hasty)  to  decide  this 
matter  without  more  consideration. 

"  They  will  take  three  rooms,  did  you  say,  sir  ? 
— and,  being  from  the  city,  they  will  probably  re- 
quire some  privileges  which — a — really,  I  hardly 
know  what  to  say,  sir." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say  to  twelve  dollars  a 
week  ?"  said  Mr.  Wood,  getting  desperate.  "  Will 
that  do  ?" 

Mr.  Green's  regular  price  was  seven  dollars. 
He  looked  at  the  merchant  warily  from  under 
his  spectacles.  "  Well — sir, — a — perhaps  you  did 
not  intend  to  include  washing,  sir?" 

"  Well,  no;  washing  extra,  if  you  say  so." 


28  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Mr.  Green  took  another  wary  look.  ".Now, 
sir, — it  may  seem  a  small  matter  to  you — but  to 
a  clergyman,  sir,  one  not  rich  in  this  world's 
goods, — a — if  you  could  say  fuel  and  light  extra 
— (washing,  fuel  and  light,  yes,  sir.  I  think  that 
will  be  all) — a — I  think  I  should  be  able  to  ac- 
cept your  terms." 

"  Very  good,  sir,  very  good.  We'll  consider  the 
matter  settled.  The  money  for  my  daughters  will 
be  forwarded  to  you  monthly  by  my  book-keeper. 
Here  is  our  card,  sir.  Miss  Roberts'  guardian  is 
just  now  in  California,  but  I  will  make  arrange- 
ments with  his  house  to  have  her  business  at- 
tended to, — here  is  their  card,  sir — Saxton  &  Co. 
Well,  girls,  pretty  tired  ?  We're  almost  there,  I 
believe." 

The  appearance  of  our  young  ladies  in  Plato- 
ville  caused  a  pleasant  little  breeze  of  excitement 
in  that  quiet  community.  Fora  moment  the  vil- 
lage girls  stood  aghast  in  their  high  waterfalls 
and  last  year's  hats,  but  they  quickly  recovered 
themselves,  in  the  eager  pursuit  of  the  fashions 
brought  by  the  new-comers.  Chatelaine  braids 
went  like  wildfire  through  the  school,  and  last 
year's  hats  took  on  an  upper  story  and  French 
roof  in  a  marvelously  short  time. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


29 


The  gravest  of  heads  turned  around  to  see  the 
city  girls  walk  into  church.  The  demurest  of 
eyes  looked  with"  ill-concealed  interest  at  their 
rich  dresses  and  pretty  waving  plumes. 

They  were  scrutinized  and  questioned  by  old 
ladies  around  the  stove,  at  the  church-door.  They 
were  discussed  at  sewing  society.  Their  proba- 
ble wealth  (increased  to  a  fabulous  degree),  the 
number  of  their  dresses,  and  the  quality  of  their 
under-clothing  (as  ascertained  from  the  washer- 
woman), were  revealed  and  commented  on. 
Their  lightest  sayings  and  doings  were  reported 
by  the  school-girls. 

A  few,  indeed,  frowned  upon  them  and  their 
finery,  and  bewailed  the  day  that  had  brought 
such  frivolity  before  the  eyes  of  Plato ville  youth. 
But  even  they  turned  around  in  the  street  to 
count  the  ruffles  on  their  dresses.  A  few  were 
scornful,  and  wished  them  to  know  that  they 
knew  something  of  city  ways,  too,  and  invited 
them  to  their  houses  to  show  them  that  they  had 
Brussels  carpets  and  pianos  as  well  as  city  folks. 
But  these  poor  little  hearts  burned  with  a  bitter 
discontent  and  envy  which  the  innocent  causers 
never  suspected. 

Nobody  in  the  village  was  really  indifferent  to 


jo  A/755  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

them.  The  apothecary  left  his  mortar,  with  a 
smile,  to  hand  out  their  letters  and  papers,  and 
the  grocer  felt  an  uncommon  sense  of  elevation 
after  they  had  been  in,  with  their  free,  pretty 
ways,  to  buy  a  few  apples,  or  a  comb. 

Not  because  they  were  handsome,  not  because 
they  were  famous,  not  because  they  were  rich, 
were  these  things  so,  but  because  they  carried 
with  them  that  nameless  grace  that  marks  the 
city-bred. 

At  the  time  our  story  commences,  the  girls 
had  begun  to  feel  quite  like  old  inhabitants  of 
Platoville.  They  had  experienced  all  the  heights 
and  depths  of  homesickness,  and  settled  down 
into  a  philosophic  resolve  to  get  all  the  fun  they 
could  out  of  the  winter.  Christmas  and  New- 
Year's  had  passed,  made  endurable  by  a  generous 
box  from  Jennie's  mother.  They  had  formed  a 
few  acquaintances, — the  Phelps,  who  were  not 
rich,  but  were  well-bred ;  the  Johnsons,  who 
were  richer,  but  not  so  well-bred.  Probably 
there  were  many  whom  they  would  have  been 
proud  to  call  friends,  if  there  could  only  have 
been  a  mutual  opening  of  eyes,  if  the  city  girls 
could  have  seen  through  the  homely  exterior  so 
new  to  them,  and  the  rustics  could  have  seen 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  3  r 

through  the  poplins,  and  velvets,"  and  feathers. 
They  were  all  some  years  older  before  they  knew 
how  real  a  lady  it  was  Sarah  Phelps  took  them 
to  see  one  day,  who  did  not  look  at  their  dresses 
nor  question  them  about  their  relatives,  but  sat 
in  her  calico  dress  talking  pleasantly  to  them, 
showing  them  her  only  rarities,  the  magnificent 
roses  and  callas  in  her  window,  and  then  got  tea 
right  before  them,  in  the  same  room — the  deli- 
cious farmer's  tea — rye  bread  and  Dutch  cheese, 
mince  pie,  baked  apples  and  cream — while  her 
husband,  just  come  in  from  some  out-door 
work,warmed  his  big,  hard  hands  before  the  fire, 
and  looked  over  the  weekly  paper. 

At  home,  in  the  Green  establishment,  the  girls 
could  never  feel,  and  that  family  long  remained 
more  or  less  of  a  problem  to  them,  unique  inlheir 
observation  and  experience.  Mr.  Green  was 
said  to  be  an  "agent,"  but  if  that  word  means 
what  from  its  derivation  one  might  suppose  it  to 
mean,  it  is  far  from  expressing  what  seemed  to 
be  the  distinguishing  feature  of  that  gentleman's 
calling.  About  once  a  month  he  "  traveled,"  in 
the  phrase  of  the  family,  but  for  what  purpose 
was  not  definitely  known.  Jennie  Osborne,  who 
confessed  to  great  curiosity  on  this  point,  never 


32  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

found  any  one  who  could  tell  her.  The  greater 
part  of  the  remaining  time  he  spent,  in  a  flowery 
dressing-gown,  reading  the  "  Herald  of  Evangel- 
ical Freedom,"  in  the  warm  corner  of  his  sitting- 
room,  and  imparting  wisdom  to  the  young  per- 
sons committed  to  his  care. 

At  the  table,  he  dealt  out  lofty  sentiments,  as 
he  did  the  meat  and  vegetables  in  well-consi- 
dered quantities,  and  in  the  midst  of  almost  un- 
broken silence  on  the  part  of  the  recipients  of 
his  favors. 

Mrs.  Green's  voice  was  seldom  heard  on  these 
festive  occasions,  except  in  a  hoarse  whisper  be- 
hind her  apron  to  the  distracted  maid-of-all-work 
"  Lucindy."  She  always  appeared  at  the  table 
in  close  pursuit  of  the  beef- steak,  flushed  and 
tired-looking,  and  the  girls,  if  they  thought  of 
her  at  all,  felt  sorry  for  her.  Otherwise,  she  was 
chiefly  known  to  the  up-stairs  community  by  the 
distant  sound  of  beating  eggs  and  the  occasional 
audible  difference  of  opinion  between  herself 
and  Bobby,  the  youthful  scion  of  the  house  of 
Green. 

Mary,  the  daughter,  was  an  unhappy  maiden 
of  fifteen,  who  wore  the  cast-off  bows  of  the 
young  lady  -  boarders,  and  envied  them  their 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  33 

other  privileges.  At  this  period  her  life  was 
made  a  burden  to  her  by  Bobby's  unremitting 
mischief,  by  her  mother's  peevish  and  ill-timed 
but  just  complaints  of  her  laziness,  and  by  her 
father's  moral  lectures  —  most  of  all  by  a  lively 
sense  of  these  and  all  the  discomforts  of  her 
home.  Let  us  hope  that  better  things  may  come 
to  the  poor  child  with  coming  years  and  wisdom. 

The  little  house,  which  might  have  made  a 
pleasant  home  for  a  family  of  five,  was  forced  to 
shelter  nearly  four  times  that  number.  Every 
room  was  full  except  the  front  parlor,  which  was 
sacred  to  shadows.  The  long  table  stood  corner- 
wise  in  the  cramped  and  gloomy  dining-room. 
The  piano  stepped  out  bluffly  in  the  way  of  all 
passers  through  the  sitting-room,  confronted  by 
the  stove  ;  and  the  sofa  and  the  centre-table,  and 
even  Mr.  Green's  rocking-chair,  were  pushed 
ingloriously  into  a  corner. 

It  was  matter  of  profound  mystery  to  the 
boarders  where  and  how  the  Green  family  spent 
the  night. 

The  favorite  theory,  however,  in  regard  to 
Mr.  Green  was  that  he  sat  in  state  in  the  flowery 
dressing-gown  imparting  wisdom  from  the  rock- 
ing-chair. 


"  Come,  my  soul,  awake,  'tis  morning, 

Day  is  dawning 
O'er  the  earth  ;  arise  and  pray  , 
Come,  to  Him  who  made  this  splendor, 

Thou  must  render 
All  thy  feeble  powers  can  pay." 


'  Be  useful  where  thou  livest,  that  they  may 
Both  want  and  wish  thy  pleasing  presence  still. 
Kindnesse,  good  parts,  great  places  are  the  way 
To  compasse  this.     Find  out  men's  wants  and  will, 
And  meet  them  there.     All  worldly  joys  go  lesse 
To  the  one  joy  of  doing  kindnesses." 

(35) 


CHAPTER    III. 

r  |  THE  morning  after  her  long  conference  with 
-*-  the  padlocked  book,  Helen  lay  waiting  for 
Lucindy  to  come  and  make  her  fire,  and  watch- 
ing the  light  creep  over  the  hills.  The  remains 
of  last  night's  feast  were  on  the  table  near  her, 
and  gradually — as  gradually  and  softly  as  day- 
light stole  into  the  room,  the  thoughts  that  had 
been  in  her  mind  before  she  went  to  sleep  came 
back  to  her.  They  were  something  brightened, 
though,  by  the  wonderful  spring  and  hopefulness 
of  morning. 

She  was  more  forgiving  to  herself  than  she 
had  been  last  night ;  more  just,  perhaps.  At  any 
rate  she  was  braver  and  happier.  She  was  not 
conscious  of  any  particular  good  resolutions. 
But  she  was  an  honest  girl.  She  had  found  her- 
self in  a  great  mistake.  There  was  only  one 
thing  for  an  honest  girl  to  do. 

When  Lucindy  came  in,  it  seemed  easier  to 
speak  to  her  pleasantly — sometimes  she  forgot  to 

(37) 


38  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

speak  to  her  at  all — and  when  she  heard  the  girls 
laughing  in  their  own  room  she  felt  inclined  to 
laugh  too.  It  was  not  yet  very  light  nor  very 
warm  in  the  little  house  when  the  breakfast-bell 
sounded  through  the  narrow  halls.  Helen  looked 
in  upon  the  girls  before  she  went  down.  Lily 
was  braiding  Dora's  hair,  at  the  same  time  dis- 
tractedly reciting  snatches  of  her  French  verbs, 
with  frequent  references  to  the  open  book  on 
the  bureau  before  her.  Dora  herself,  with  a 
troubled  countenance,  was  working  out  her  Lat- 
in sentences,  slowly  and  somewhat  jerkingly, 
owing  to  the  savage  pulls  that  Lily,  in  her  own 
zeal  for  learning,  was  inflicting  on  her  poor  hair. 
Jennie,  in  the  earliest  stages  of  preparation  for 
breakfast,  was  in  the  act  of  tossing  her  geometry 
to  the  ceiling  when  Helen  opened  the  door,  but 
changing  her  attitude  in  an  instant,  stood  sol- 
emnly up  before  the  two  scholars  and  delivered 
a  few  remarks  in  Mr.  Green's  most  impressive 
manner  on  the  blessed  effects  of  early  rising  and 
habits  of  punctuality  in  all  the  walks  of  life. 
Helen  laughed  and  went  on.  She  was  an  early 
riser  by  nature,  and  gave  herself  no  credit  for 
habits  of  punctuality. 

On  the  stairs  she  encountered  Miss  Peck  and 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  39 

Miss  Smith  who  inhabited  (by  what  distribution 
of  themselves  or  their  effects  no  one  could  guess) 
the  very  little  room  at  the  end  of  the  hall. 
They  were  two  faithful,  hard-workings  girls  who 
taught  school  in  their  several  villages  during  the 
summer,  and  in  winter  drank  deep  of  the  fount 
of  wisdom  at  Platoville.  This  was  their  third 
winter  at  Mr.  Green's.  Thus  patiently  and  la- 
boriously they  were  getting  their  education, 
"  fitting  themselves  for  usefulness,"  as  they  said. 
They  both  eschewed  the  prevailing  mode  of 
dress.  Miss  Smith  had  spectacles  and  short 
curls.  Miss  Peck  wore  her  hair  drawn  solemnly 
back  from  her  plain,  pleasant  face,  and  fastened 
in  a  little  knot  behind. 

"  Those  examples  all  came  right,"  said  Miss 
Smith  after  the  good  mornings. 

"  Did  they  ?     I'm  very  glad." 

Helen  remembered  now  that  Miss  Smith  had 
tapped  at  her  door  yesterday  and  asked  her  help 
on  some  puzzling  algebra  problems. 

"  But  we  worked  almost  three  quarters  of  an 
hour  on  that  one  about  the  hands  of  a  clock,"  said 
Miss  Peck,  with  an  air  that  called  for  sympathy. 

Helen  had  forgotten  all  about  that  particular 
problem,  but  she  smiled. 


40  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  I  always  remember  the  one  about  the  Ma- 
deira and  Teneriffe,  because  it  puzzled  me  so 
when  I  went  over  the  book." 

"  You  must  come  and  see  me  sometimes,  when 
you  have  n't  problems  to  do,"  she  added  pleas- 
antly, as  they  reached  the  dining-room  door. 
"  I  have  some  new  views  of  California  that  you 
might  like  to  see." 

"  Thank  you.  It  is  so  improving  to  see  views 
of  natural  scenery,"  said  Miss  Smith. 

"  You  have  had  so  many  advantages,"  mur- 
mured Miss  Peck,  with  a  wistful  look  in  her 
eyes. 

"  Those  girls  are  perfectly  hungry  for  what 
I've  had  all  my  life,  and  what  hundreds  of  girls 
throw  away  every  day.  What  a  queer  world 
this  is,"  thought  Helen,  touching  on  a  question 
which  has  puzzled  many  another  philosopher. 

On  the  evening  of  the  celebrated  Church  Fair, 
Helen  astonished  the  girls  by  appearing  at  their 
door  with  her  hat  and  jacket  on. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  are  going," 
said  Lily.  "  I  thought  you  thought  it  would  be 
a  '  dreadful  bore.'  " 

"  That  was  an  insult  to  Platoville  that  I  did  n't 
intend,"  said  Helen,  flushing  at  the  remembrance 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  ^i 

of  her  foolish  little  speech.  "  Yes'm,  I'm  going.  I 
don't  know  why  I  should  n't  see  the  fun  as  well 
as  my  young  and  frisky  cousins." 

"  That's  jolly,"  cried  Dora,  who  was  lacing  her 
boots  in  her  own  little  room. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  in  the  low,  white- 
walled  "  vestry,"  among  the  usual  variety  of 
dolls  and  book-marks,  pincushions  and  old  women 
who  lived  in  shoes. 

They  filled  their  arms  with  things  that  they 
didn't  want,  and  patronized  the  cake  and  candy 
tables  to  a  degree  that  threatened  to  undermine 
their  constitutions.  They  had  their  fortunes  told, 
and  were  pursued  by  small  boys  with  letters,  on 
which  they  paid  enormous  postage.  They  yield- 
ed to  the  blandishments  of  the  ladies  of  the  "  Old 
Folks'  Kitchen,"  but  resisted  the  baked  beans  and 
mush  and  milk  when  they  got  there. 

They  raffled  recklessly,  and  Dora  drew  the 
bed-quilt,  which  she  was  only  too  thankful  to 
return  at  once  to  be  re-raffled  for  by  other  reck- 
less creatures. 

Helen  brought  a  smile  to  Mary  Green's  un- 
happy face,  by  insisting  that  she  should  join  their 
party  when  they  went  into  the  infant-class  room 
to  partake  of  some  very  lumpy  ice  cream.  She 


42  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

afterwards  thought  that  she  might  have  made 
Miss  Smith  and  Miss  Peck  happy  in  the  same 
way,  or  in  some  other.  But  it  was  too  late.  The 
two  girls  had  slipped  quietly  out  when  the  clock 
pointed  to  nine,  with  peaceful  hearts  and  con- 
sciences. They  had  bought  nothing,  but  each 
had  laid  out  the  fifteen  cents  admission  fee,  all 
that  they,  felt  able  to  give,  for  the  good  of  the 
cause. 

"  Well,  it's  a  little  better  than  nothing,"  said 
Lily  going  home. 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Helen,  whose  "  nothing,"  how- 
ever, was  not  quite  the  same  as  Lily's. 

"  The  idea  of  my  drawing  that  horrid  bed- 
quilt,"  said  the  disgusted  Dora. 

Jennie  was  behind  them,  flirting  desperately 
with  the  minister's  son,  who  was  home  from  col- 
lege on  his  winter  vacation,  and  had  first  seen 
the  stylish  young  lady  through  his  eye-glass  that 
evening.  Helen  had  not  enjoyed  herself  much. 
She  had  not  expected  to.  She  had  left  Kate  Nic- 
kleby,  just  arrived,  at  the  Mantalini's,  and  was 
anxious  to  pursue  the  acquaintance  of  that  inter- 
esting family.  Nevertheless,  she  was  glad  she 
had  gone. 

"  Now,  don't  go  poking  off  to  your  own  room. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  43 

Come  in  and  have  a  friendly  piece  of  cake,"  said 
Lily,  after  they  had  climbed  the  steep  stairs  in 
the  dark. 

"  No  more  cake  to-night,"  cried  Helen  and 
Dora  in  chorus,  but  Helen  came  in  and  sat  down 
on  the  edge  of  the  bed.  Between  the  fear  of 
going  away  too  soon,  and  of  staying  so  long  as 
to  be  dull,  and  stupid,  and  "  queer,"  she  didn't 
quite  know,  what  to  do. 

"  I  am  really  very  tired,  and  sha'n't  stay  up 
very  long  anywhere.  But  what  are  we  to  do 
with  all  these  things  ?  Dora,  my  dear,  will  you 
accept  a  pincushion  ?  This  stuffed  doll  is  a  beau- 
tiful object.  I  don't  know  exactly  what  it  is  in- 
tended for,  but  I  should  think  it  might  make  a 
useful  pincushion.  Here  is  a  bronze  slipper  also, 
with  a  high  heel,  and  buckle,  and  all  the  fixings. 
It  is  evidently  intended  for  a  needle-book  and 
pincushion.  By  the  way,  I  wonder  if  Lucindy's 
heart  wouldn't  warm  towards  this." 

And  when  Jennie  came  in  to  exhibit  her  pur- 
chases and  tell  the  tale  of  her  evening's  triumphs, 
Helen  slipped  away  to  her  own  room,  and  was 
very  little  missed. 

It  was  Saturday  morning,  and  snowing  as 
usual.  The  girls  had  put  on  their  rubber  boots 


44  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

and  waterproofs,  and  tramped  off  to  get  the  mail 
and  lay  in  a  stock  of  candies  and  fruits  to  last 
over  Sunday.  Helen  sat  at  the  window,  her 
cheeks  resting  on  her  hands,  looking  up,  as  chil- 
dren do,  into  the  air,  made  gray  and  blinding  by 
the  falling  flakes.  But  presently  she  took  her 
work-basket  from  the  table  close  by,  and  fell  to 
mending  a  glove. 

The  room  was  in  its  Saturday  morning  confu- 
sion and  dreariness,  waiting  for  Mrs.  Green,  who 
on  these  occasions  was  accustomed  to  bring  up 
fresh  sheets  and,  with  a  rueful  countenance,  help 
Lucindy  make  the  beds.  Before  long  a  heavy 
step  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  and,  bringing  the 
airs  of  the  kitchen  on  her  garments,  the  lady  en- 
tered. Helen  never  could  talk  to  Mrs.  Green. 
She  tried  now  to  think  of  the  right  thing  to  say, 
but  her  efforts  were  not  crowned  with  success, 
and  the  work  proceeded,  for  the  most  part,* in 
silence.  But  when  it  was  done,  that  lady  aston- 
ished Helen  by  sitting  down  plumply  on  the 
lounge  opposite  her,  and  beginning  to  talk  her- 
self. 

"  You  was  a  sayin'  that  you  wanted  another 
practice-hour  ?"  she  began. 

Helen  admitted  the  fact. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  45 

"  Well,  Mr.  Brown,  one  of  the  young  gentle- 
men, he's  goin'  to  take  singin'  lessons,  and  his 
teacher  can't  come  only  at  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon."  That  was  the  time  Helen  had  spoken 
of.  "  If  you  had  jest  as  lieves  practice  in  the 
evenin',  why,  'twould  accommodate,"  pursued 
Mrs.  Green. 

The  boarders  at  Mr.  Green's  were  always 
"  encouraged  "  to  take  their  lamps  and  spend  the 
evening  in  the  sitting-room.  On  such  occasions 
the  family  lamp  was  put  out  and  set  in  the  closet, 
and  the  head  of  the  family  (to  borrow  the  lan- 
guage of  the  card)  "  exerted  a  parental  influence 
over  the  young  persons  committed  to  his  charge, 
by  assisting  them  in  their  studies  or  superintend- 
ing them  in  some  elevated  form  of  amusement." 
But  the  young  ladies  from  the  city  had  set  the 
evil  example  of  remaining  in  their  rooms,  and  the 
other  boarders,  with  one  consent,  had  followed. 

"  But  that  is  the  only  time  when  you  have  the 
room  to  yourself,"  said  Helen  at  last,  feeling  that 
she  must  say  something,  but  quite  conscious  that 
this  was  not  the  only  nor  uppermost  reason  for 
disliking  the  proposed  arrangement.  It  was  only 
the  one  which  in  a  series  of  mental  objections  she 
had  just  reached. 


46  MISS  XOBEXTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  Oh,  I  always  like  to  hear  the  planner  goin' !" 
returned  Mrs.  Green  ;  "  and  he  don't  mind  it, 
either,"  referring  to  Mr.  Green,  who  was  at  pre- 
sent "  traveling,"  hence  the  unusual  circumstance  . 
of  his  wife  having  anything  to  say  about  busi- 
ness. Helen  did  want  the  extra  hour.  Music 
was  almost  the  only  thing  she  was  making  much 
progress  in  this  winter,  and. all  the  time  she  could 
give  to  that  was  well  spent.  But  she  was  a  very 
particular  young  woman  as  to  the  circumstances 
under  which  she  practiced.  By  a  judicious  and 
persistent  use  of  chromatics  and  five-fingered  ex- 
ercises, she  had  succeeded  in  making  Mr.  Green 
take  his  daily  walk  during  her  morning  hour,  and 
between  one  and  two  she  was  comparatively  at 
peace,  the  boarders  being  all  off  at  afternoon 
school,  and  Mr.  Green  exercising  his  parental 
duties  and  privileges  in  making  the  tour  of  the 
young  gentlemen's  rooms. 

"  We'll  leave  it  this  way,  if  you  please,  Mrs. 
Green,"  she  said  at  last.  "  I  will  come  down  in 
the  evening  whenever  I  need  the  practice  very 
much,  but  we  won't  call  it  a  regular  thing.  And 
whenever  it  isn't  convenient  for  you,  you  must 
let  me  know." 

It  really  did  seem  to  Helen  that  the  unhappy 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  47 

woman  must  occasionally  have  a  wish  in  regard 
to  the  occupation  of  her  time  and  her  house. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  one  evening  not  long 
after,  Helen,  having  heard  Mr.  Green  go  out  to 
an  evening  meeting,  appeared  with  her  music  in 
the  sitting-room.  A  lively  encounter  between 
Mrs.  Green  and  Bobby  had -been  audible  through 
the  pipe  of  the  drum  a  few  minutes  before,  but 
there  was  now  a  lull.  Bobby's  rebellious  little 
legs  were  calmly  curled  up  on  the  sofa,  and  he 
slept  the  sleep  of  the  innocent.  Helen  did  not 
discover  him  at  once.  The  only  light  in  the 
room  was  a  low,  flickering  candle,  on  the  table 
in  the  corner  (the  kerosene  lamp  had  been  put 
out  and  locked  up  in  the  closet,  before  Mr. 
Green's  departure).  Mrs.  Green  sat  by  the  table 
mending  a  dress  for  Mary.  That  young  lady 
herself  was  in  at  the  next  door,  ostensibly  look- 
ing out  her  map  questions  with  her  most  intimate 
friend. 

"  If  you  will  let  Lucinda  go  up  and  get  my 
lamp,"  said  Helen,  a  little  hesitatingly  ;  she  fan- 
cied it  might  be  embarrassing.  "  It  takes  a  good 
deal  of  light  to  practice." 

"  I'll  go  myself,"  and  Mrs.  Green  rose  with  the 
utmost  readiness.  "  Never  mind  him,"  contin- 


48  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

ued  that  lady,  finding  Helen  contemplating  Bob- 
by when  she  returned.  "  I  guess  he  won't  wake 
up,  and  't  won't  hurt  him  if  he  does." 

Helen,  it  must  be  confessed,  feared  the  conse- 
quences of  Bobby's  waking  more  for  other  people 
than  for  himself.  She  was  a  little  disgusted  and 
inclined  to  give  up -the  practicing,  but  with  her 
lamp  in  Mrs.  Green's  possession,  and  that  lady 
stitching  away  with  renewed  vigor  under  its  en- 
livening rays,  she  was  clearly  at  a  disadvan- 
tage. 

"  Well,  p'raps  he'll  wake  up  of  himself  if  you 
wait  a  few  minutes,"  said  Mrs.  Green,  and  Helen 
sat  down.  Once  more  she  couldn't  think  of  any- 
thing to  say,  and  once  more  Mrs.  Green  came  to 
her  relief. 

"  Was  you  always  lame  ?"  she  began,  bluntly. 

Helen's  face  flushed  hot  a  moment  at  this  rude- 
ness, but  she  looked  at  the  woman's  coarse,  un- 
conscious face,  and  tried  to  realize  that  the  ques- 
tion came  from  nothing  but  a  kind  feeling  of  in- 
terest. She  answered  as  pleasantly  as  she  could, 

"  No,  ma'am,  not  always." 

"  Did  you  have  a  fall  or  anything?" 

"  No ;  but  I  was  ill  a  great  deal  when  I  was  a 
child." 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  49 

"  How  old  was  you  when  your  father  and  mo- 
ther died  ?" 

"  Only  a  baby,"  said  Helen,  wishing  she  might 
change  the  subject. 

"  And  your  aunt  and  uncle  have  took  care  of 
you  ever  since,"  said  Mrs.  Green,  concluding  her 
rapid  mental  sketch  of  the  young  lady's  life. 

"  I  have  lived  sometimes  with  them  and  some- 
times with  my  guardian,  Mrs.  Green.  Have  you 
always  lived  in  Platoville  ?" 

Mrs.  Green  was  a  woman  of  few  words  on  or- 
dinary occasions,  but  she  was  capable  of  being 
drawn  out  almost  indefinitely.  Helen  asked  a 
few  questions  at  first  for  their  own  sake,  after- 
wards from  a  genuine  interest,  and  presently 
found  it  unnecessary  to  ask  any  questions  at  all. 
This  coarse  and  common  woman,  who  seemed 
allied  to  the  fleshly  things  with  which  she  chiefly 
had  to  do  —  this  grimy,  smoky  genius  of  the 
kitchen,  who  carried  drudgery  in  every  line  of 
her  face,  and  heat,  and  worry,  and  bustle  in  every 
movement  of  her  burly  form — this  woman  had 
had  a  youth.  She  had  had  romance  in  her  girl's 
heart,  and  tenderness  in  her  woman's  breast.  It 
came  out  oddly  enough,  in  ways  that  seemed 
rough  and  coarse  to  her  auditor,  but  it  did  come 
3 


50  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

out,  and  Helen  listened  as  to  a  revelation.  She 
told  of  meeting  her  first  husband  many  years  ago 
at  a  singing-school ;  of  the  string  of  beads  he 
gave  her  one  night  for  a  kiss  and  a  promise  ;  of 
the  lover's  quarrel  that  came,  and  of  her  walking 
twenty-six  miles  in  one  day  to  find  him  and  pre- 
vent his  going  off  to  sea.  She  told  of  their  hap- 
piness in  their  own  little  house,  and  of  the  two 
children  that  were  born  to  them  and  died ;  and 
then  she  told  how  he  sickened,  and  how  she 
watched  him  through  the  long  fever,  and  then 
took  him  to  his  own  home  and  buried  him. 
Helen  thought  that  all  this  woman's  real  life 
has  been  buried,  too,  in  that  grave. 

Mrs.  Green's  harsh  voice  shook  as  she  told  the 
story,  and  her  face  took  on  a  look  that  Helen 
had  never  suspected  it  could  wear.  Of  her  later 
life  she  said  nothing,  and  Helen  hadn't  the  heart 
to  question  her  about  it. 

"  If  I  only  could  have  had  one  of  them  babies 
left  to  me  !"  the  woman  cried  out,  after  a  pause. 
"And  yet  I've  thanked  the  Lord  a  thousand  times 
that  they  were  all  gone." 

And  she  wiped  her  eyes,  pinned  her  work  to 
her  knee  in  a  new  place,  and  stitched  away,  the 
every-day  look  coming  back  to  her  face. 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE:  5  L 

Helen,  who  .had  read  few  stories  except  in 
books,  found  the  right  words  farther  off  than 
ever  before,  and  Bobby  was  nestling  now,  so  she 
went  to  the  piano  and  played  very  sweetly  a 
gentle  little  melody.  Bobby  beat  up  the  sofa 
pillow,  and  raised  himself  on  his  elbow  to  listen, 
in  a  wide-awake  contentment  that  lasted  longer 
than  might  have  been  expected. 

"  You  play  real  pretty,"  said  Mrs.  Green. 
"  Give  us  some  more  !" 

So  Helen  kept  on,  and  gradually  got  into  her 
regular  practice,  and  by  nine  o'clock  was  in  her 
own  room  again. 

One  day,  a  year  afterwards,  the  minister's  wife 
told  Mrs.  Green  that  she  would  like  to  lend  her 
"  The  Minister's  Wooing,"  which  had  just  come 
out  in  book  form. 

"  What !  that  one  about  he  that  went  to  sea 
and  she  was  goin'  to  marry  the  minister  ?"  said 
Mrs.  Green.  "  Why,  one  of  our  boarders  read 
that  to  me  !  She  used  to  come  down  to  practice 
when  lie  was  gone  to  meetin',  and  sometimes 
Bobby  was  asleep,  so  she  would  bring  down  her 
paper  and  read  till  he  woke  up.  She  was  a  nice 
girl.  I  used  to  think  she  was  proud  sometimes 
but  she  could  be  real  pleasant,  too." 


52  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

One  day  a  stranger  came  to  Platoville  on  the 
eleven  o'clock  train.  He  had  sent  a  letter  before 
him  to  this  effect : 

"  MY  DEAR  CHILD, — I  arrived  from  San  Fran- 
cisco  yesterday  per   steamer  Yucatan.     I   shall 
take  the  midnight  train  north  Wednesday,  and 
hope  to  see  you  for  a  few  hours  on  Thursday. 
"  Yours, 

"  EDWARD   SAXTON." 

But  the  letter  did  not  reach  Platoville  till  seve- 
ral hours  after  the  stranger  had  left  it,  and  Miss 
Roberts  was  naturally  somewhat  surprised  when, 
on  coming  in  from  her  morning  recitations,  she 
was  informed  that  there  was  a  gentleman  in  the 
parlor  waiting  to  see  her.  A  handsome  rug,  and 
the  most  elegant  of  brown  leather  traveling-bags, 
lay  on  the  hall  floor,  and  on  the  little  black  sofa 
just  within  the  parlor  door,  was  a  rather  small, 
very  neat,  iron-grey-haired  gentleman.  Mr. 
Green  sat  by  his  side  in  the  full  glory  of  the 
flowery  dressing-gown,  wisdom  and  benignity 
fairly  bubbling  over  from  his  whole  aspect. 

The  small  gentleman  turned  from  him  and  rose 
with  a  gentle  shake,  as  if  he  would  have  shaken 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  53 

off  some  of  the  precious  drops  of  the  bubbled- 
over  wisdom.  A  person  of  lively  imagination 
might  have  been  reminded,  by  the  act,  of  a  little 
bird  lightly  scattering  the  priceless  summer  rain 
from  his  glossy  feathers.  Helen  came  up  to  the 
little  gentleman  and  kissed  him,  with  that  mix- 
ture of  shyness  and  delight  which,  from  a  child, 
she  always  felt  on  meeting  her  guardian. 

"  You  were  not  expecting  me,  my  dear  ?  I  am 
not  acquainted  with  these  northern  mails,  and 
didn't  calculate  for  my  letter  having  to  go  to  Ban- 
gor,  to  be  sent  back  to  you.  '  Pretty  well,'  are 
you  ?  We'll  see  about  that  in  a  moment." 

Then  he  took  out  his  watch.  "  I  shall  wish  to 
see  your  room,  if  you  please,  my  child,  and,  Mr. 
Green,  will  you  have  the  kindness,  sir,  to  procure 
a  comfortable  vehicle  of  some  sort  to  come  to  the 
door  immediately  after  dinner  ?" 

Mr.  Green  was  only  too  happy,  and  exchang- 
ing his  long  dressing-gown  for  his  long  over- 
coat, and  his  noiseless  slippers  for  his  noiseless 
over-shoes,  stole  out  of  the  house. 

"  Your  uncle  selected  this  place  for  you,  and 
came  with  you  here  ?"  said  Helen's  guardian, 
when  they  were  alone,  rising  to  his  feet  and  stand- 
ing up  over  her  in  a  somewhat  alarming  way. 


54  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"Yes,  sir;"  and  Helen  related  the  circum- 
stances. 

Her  guardian  made  an  inarticulate  sound 
for  answer,  and  strode  rapidly  once  or  twice 
up  and  down  the  little  apartments,  kicking 
one  or  two  loose  crickets  before  him  into  the 
shadowy  depths  of  the  bay-window,  for  he  was 
rather  a  nervous  little  gentleman.  Then,  coming 
back  suddenly,  he  took  the  awful  liberty  of  rais- 
ing the  front  window  and  throwing  the  yellow- 
green  blinds  wide  open.  Then  he  sat  down  on 
the  sofa  and  looked  into  Helen's  face.  The  un- 
wonted blaze  of  sunlight  gave  the  little  room  and 
its  stiff  finery  an  astonished  and  injured  look, 
which  Helen  remembers  to  this  day,  when  she 
thinks  of  Platoville.  The  light  revealed  also  the 
young  girl's  countenance,  and  brought  out  clear- 
ly the  decided  lines  about  the  mouth,  the  kindly 
eyes,  and  rather  handsome  features  of  the  middle- 
aged  man  by  her  side.  His  face  was  one  you 
would  have  liked  to  look  at,  and  yet,  after  look- 
ing some  fime,  you  might  have  been  quite  una- 
ble to  say  what  manner  of  man  the  possessor  of 
it  was.  Like  all  of  us,  he  was  many-sided.  If 
you  had  gone  down  among  the  docks  and  ware- 
houses on  Water  Street,  X ,  and  asked  the 


ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  5  5 

merchants  there  to  tell  you  about  him,  they 
would  have  said, — "Saxton? — he's  one  of  our 
most  solid  men.  He's  a  prudent  man,  a  very 
prudent  man ;  and  yet  he  has  a  quick  eye  for  a 
chance.  His  ventures  seldom  fail.  Edward  Sax- 
ton's  name  is  a  pretty  sure  sign  of  success  to  any 
scheme.  A  little  too  particular,  perhaps — a  little 
too  afraid  of  anything  that  looks  like  sharp  prac- 
tice or  double  dealing ;  but  he's  a  safe  man,  a 
very  safe  man,  and  has  been  a  very  successful 
one." 

If  you  had  gone  home  to  tea  with  his  mild- 
faced  tailor  one  evening,  that  same  week,  you 
might  have  heard  him  remark,  across  the  table, 
to  his  well-dressed  wife — "  Mr.  Saxton  was  in  to- 
day, my  dear.  Just  home  from  California,  and 
looking  well — extremely  well.  He  bought  one 
of  that  new  line  of  beavers,  and  ordered  his 
spring  over-coat.  '  A  lovely  man,'  you  think,  my 
dear — a  '  lovely  man  ?'  Well,  I  have  a  great  re- 
spect for  Mr.  Saxton,  as  you  well  know,  Mrs. 
Button ;  but  I  must  say  that  he  is  a  very  partic- 
ular man — a  very  particular  man — extremely  so, 
in  fact.  I  have  known  him  send  back  a  coat — 
well — as  many  as  five  times,  to  have  the  set  of 
the  sleeves  altered,  and — though  I  wouldn't  men- 


5 6  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

tion  it  to  any  one  but  you,  Mrs.  Button,  I  don't 
know  of  any  gentleman  who  is  more  apt  to  be  a 
little  irritable,  if  his  goods  are  not  just  what  he 
ordered,  or  are  not  sent  home  at  the  precise  time 
they  are  promised." 

If  you  had  talked  with  his  pastor  about  the 
grey-haired  man  who  had  sat  before  his  face, 
Sunday  after  Sunday,  for  many  years,  and  who 
had  been  all  that  time  one  of  the  "  pillars"  of  his 
church,  and  a  promoter  of  every  good  and  enter- 
prising movement,  he  might  have  told  you  that 
notwithstanding  all  his  intercourse  with  him,  he 
felt  that  he  had  but  little  real  knowledge  of  the 
retiring  man  ;  but  that  once  or  twice  he  had  met 
him  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  "  walking  at 
eventide,"  and  that  on  these  occasions  he  had  had 
deeper  talks  with  him  than  with  any  man  he 
knew,  that  he  believed  him  to  be  a  man  of  a  rare 
spirit,  of  very  pure  life,  and  of  high  aim." 

If  you  had  gone  to  certain  widows,  and  to  cer- 
tain struggling  clerks,  in  the  city  of  X ,  they 

might  have  told  you,  with  tears  in  their  eyes, 
things  that  the  quiet  doer  of  them  would  rather 
I  should  not  set  down  even  here.  His  house- 
keeper, who  saw,  perhaps,  more  of  him  in  bodily 
presence  than  any  body  else,  would  have  told 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  57 

you  that  he  liked  his  eggs  soft-boiled,  and  his 
toast  very  hot,  and  that  he  drank  a  glass  of  fresh 
milk  every  morning,  just  as  reg'lar  as  the  morn- 
ings came.  Even  Helen,  who  had  spent  six 
months  of  most  of  the  years  of  her  life  in  his 
house,  could  have  told  you  little  about  him,  ex- 
cept that  he  was  the  most  generous  of  guardians, 
that  she  was  a  little  afraid  of  him,  and  that  there 
was  growing  in  her  heart,  every  year  as  she 
grew  older,  a  deep  honor  for  the  little  man. 

"  It's  more  than  I  can  understand  !  What  ever 
induced  Lucy  Roberts  to  put  that  child  under 
Saxton's  care !"  Helen's  uncle  used  to  say  to  his 
wife  sometimes.  "  What  does  he  know  about 
girls  ?  Perfect  absurdity  !  Now,  if  she  had  only 
left  her  to  me,  her  natural  guardian,  the  girl 
could  have  grown  up  with  our  daughters,  and 
her  property  could  have  gone  in  with  ours,  and 
I  could  have  doubled  it  a  dozen  times.  Saxton's 
too  careful  to  do  anything  with  it — keeps  it 
locked  up  in  a  strong  box,  I  suppose — and  the 
dear  knows  what  he's  going  to  do  with  all  his 
money,  when  he  dies." 

But  Lucy  Roberts  knew  Edward  Saxton  well 
— perhaps  better  than  any  body  else  had  ever 
known  him — and  she  chose  him  out  of  all  the 


58  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

men  and  all  the  women  she  knew,  to  take  care 
of  her  little  girl  when  she  must  leave  her. 

Helen  rather  feared  the  effect  of  a  dinner  a  la 
Green  on  her  guardian.  That  ceremony  went 
off  very  much  as  usual.  The  vegetables  and  the 
moralities  were  dispensed  with  the  usual  benig- 
nant grace.  The  promiscuously  laden  plates 
passed  in  solemn  procession  up  and  down  the 
long  row  of  expectant  feasters,  who  all  waited 
for  the  uplifted  knife  and  fork  of  the  head  of  the 
family  before  they  ventured  to  appease  the  clam- 
ors of  appetite.  Lucindy  stood  lost  in  thought 
behind  the  stove,  or  recalled  by  her  mistress's 
awful  whisper,  made  a  rush  to  the  further  end  of 
the  table  to  pour  gravy  into  the  glass  of  the 
young  gentleman  who  called  for  water. 

But  Mr.  Saxton  took  it  all  with  gravity 
and  equanimity.  His  nervousness  seemed  to 
have  disappeared,  and  he  sat  quietly  observant 
of  Helen  and  her  three  friends,  or  answering  as 
well  .as  he  could  their  girlish  questions  about 
home  in  the  intervals  of  Mr.  Green's  discourse. 
He  tried  to  remember  how  long  the  Huntington 
girls  had  been  home  from  school,  but  he  was  not 
sure  where  the  last  sociable  met.  He  resisted 
steadily  Mr.  Green's  attempts  to  draw  him  out, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  59 

but  listened  with  a  grave  respect  to  such  of  that 
gentleman's  remarks  as  were  specially  addressed 
to  him. . 

After  dinner,  Deacon  Prosy's  green  sleigh, 
with  a  melancholy  jingle  of  small  bells,  drew  up 
to  the  door,  and  Helen  in  her  little  brown,  fur- 
edged  jacket  and  the  hat  with  the  pheasant's 
wing,  and  wrapped  in  the  handsome  traveling- 
rug,  showed  her  guardian  the  sights  of  Platoville. 
They  called  on  the  principal  of  the  academy, 
who  was  a  scholar  and  a  gentleman,  and  to  whom 
the  short  interview  with  the  broad-minded  and 
cultivated  business -man  was  a  real  pleasure. 
They  drew  up  to  the  side-walk  in  front  of  the 
store  to  speak  to  Professor  Koerner.  He  was 
the  German  teacher,  melancholy  of  attire,  beam- 
ing of  countenance,  who  earned  a  precarious 
but  happy  existence  by  carving  brackets  and 
picture-frames,  and  giving  lessons  in  his  native 
language  in  Platoville  and  the  surrounding 
towns.  He  had  gone  home  to  his  patient,  blue-  ' 
eyed  wife  and  eight  rosy  children  with  a  brighter 
face  than  usual  when  he  learned  that  he  was  to 
have  an  extra  class  of  three  young  ladies  from 
the  city,  and  a  special  reading-lesson  every  day 
with  one  of  them. 


60  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE, 

At  length,  after  a  short  stop  at  the  deacon's 
door,  and  the  taking  in  of  the  deacon's  small 
son  as  driver  elect,  the  horse's  head  was  turned 
towards  the  depot,  and  they  began  to  listen  for 
the  whistle  of  the  down-train. 

"  Well,  my  child,  I  think  you  will  hold  out  till 
the  end  of  the  year." 

There  was  a  slight  questioning  inflection  in  the 
words,  nevertheless,  and  Helen  answered,  with 
rather  surprised  eyes,  "  Oh,  yes,  sir." 

Somehow  Platoville  life  had  almost  unconsci- 
ously, to  her,  taken  on  a  different  look  these  last 
few  weeks. 

Mr.  Saxton  looked  pleased. 

"  What  will  you  wish  to  do  at  the  end  of  the 
term  ?  Will  you  go  with  your  cousins  to 
Chicago  or  come  to  me  ?" 

"  I  would  rather  come  home — to  you,  sir." 

Mr.  Saxton  looked  pleased  again. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  Dennis  to  send  you  the 
flowers  this  winter  ?" 

"  I  did  n't  think  of  it,  I'm  sure." 

"  I  was  the  thoughtless  one.  It  should  have 
been  done.  Mitty  has  been  good  enough  to 
send  old  Mrs.  Brown  a  basket  full  now  and  then, 
but  otherwise  they  have  been  wasting  their 


MISS  ROBERTS' FORTUNE.  6 1 

sweetness.  Now,  good-bye,  my  child.  No, 
keep  the  rug.  I  bought  it  for  you.  I  have 
made  arrangements  to  have  the  sleigh  and  this 
young  man  here  for  driver  whenever  you  wish, 
and  a  buggy  when  the  snow  goes.  You  must 
take  a  drive  every  day,  if  possible.  If  you  need 
anything,  tell  your  guardian." 

Helen  kissed  him  good-bye,  and  thanked  him. 
She  -would  as  little  have  thought  of  telling  him 
how  mucJi  she  thanked  him  as  he  would  have 
thought  of  telling  her  how  glad  he  was  to  see 
his  "  child''  once  more,  and  how  he  rejoiced  at  a 
certain  new  light  that  he  thought  he  saw  in  her 
eyes. 

Perhaps  Edward  Saxton  did  know  little  about 
girls,  but  he  knew  something  about  souls,  and 
had  a  quick  instinct  for  reading  in  faces  that 
which  lies  beneath  the  common  ken. 

He  did  not  open  his  paper  at  once  on  going 
into  the  cars,  but  looked  gravely  out  of  the  win- 
dow at  the  dull,  brown  and  white  fields  flying 
faster  and  faster  before  him.  "Yes,  it's  going  to 
be  a  good  thing,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  Wood 
was  wiser  than  he  knew.  I  did  n't  think  so  at 
first.  The  cramped,  dismal  rooms  are  bad,  the 
cod-fishy  halls  are  very  bad,  the  moral  sentiments 


62  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

are  not  to  my  taste ;  but  she's  getting  what  she 
would  n't  have  got  anywhere  else.  Those  girls, 
too, — she  needed  to  be  brought  nearer  to  them, — 
perhaps  she  will  be  able  to  do  something  for 
them,  and  I'm  not  afraid  of  their  hurting  her, — 
not  even  that  scatter-brained  creature  of  Os- 
borne's." 

The  breath  of  the  city  brought  by  Helen's 
guardian  threatened  to  plunge  the  girls  'back 
into  their  original  home-sickness.  They  all  sat 
that  afternoon  in  a  dismal  group  on  Helen's  bed, 
and  even  the  box  of  lovely  candies  that  the 
thoughtful  little  man  had  taken  out  of  his  bag 
before  he  left  was  not  equal  to  the  emergency. 

Presently  Lucindy  thrust  her  head  in  at  the 
door,  unannounced  by  knock  or  step,  and,  in  the 
sepulchral  tone  learned  from  her  mistress,  whis- 
pered hoarsely,  "  Music  teacher." 

"  Oh,  dear,  I  had  forgotten  all  about  her,"  said 
Helen,  starting  up. 

Helen's  music  teacher  was  a  blind  lady  who 
had  been  educated  at  the  Perkins  Institute  in 
Boston,  and  now  did  what  she  could  for  the  sup- 
port of  herself  and  her  poor  old  mother  by  giv- 
ing lessons  in  music.  She  was  a  plain,  unat- 
tractive woman,  and  Helen  had  seldom  thought 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  63 

much  about  her,  except  with  a  vague  kind  of 
pity,  that  made  her  constrained  and  almost  bash- 
ful in  Miss  Graham's  presence,  and  a  sense  that 
she  was  an  unusually  good  music  teacher  for  a 
lady. 

But  to-day  she  was  not  in  the  mood  for  her 
lesson,  and  somehow  found  herself  thinking  less 
of  the  music  and  more  of  the  teacher  than  ever 
before.  She  noticed  the  soft,  almost  loving 
touch  with  which  Miss  Graham  handled  the 
keys  when  she  played  the  accompaniment  to  her 
new  song.  She  looked  at  her  face  and  thought 
that,  if  it  were  not  for  the  pitiful  green  glasses, 
and  a  somewhat  hard  and  fixed  expression  which 
was,  perhaps,  the  result  of  the  long  shutting  out 
of  pleasure  from  one  entrance,  it  would  be  a  very 
pleasant  face.  The  little  girl  who  led  Miss 
Graham  to  her  lessons  was  late  in  coming  for 
her  to-day,  and  after  the  lesson  pupil  and  teacher 
sat  together  some  minutes  waiting. 

Miss  Graham  drew  out  a  roll  of  music  from  her 
muff.  "  Here  is  something  that  came  to  me  by 
this  afternoon's  mail.  Will  you  be  so  kind  -as 
to  tell  me  what  it  is?"  Helen  read  the  title. 
"  Whose  composition  is  it  ?  Does  it  look  pretty  ?" 

"  Sha'n't  I  try  it  for  you,  Miss  Graham  ?"  said 


64  MJSS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Helen,  suddenly.  "  You  know  all  about  my 
reading,  but  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  with  it." 

"Thank  you,  my  dear,"  said  Miss  Graham, 
when  she  was  done.  "  It  is  on  A  flat?"  and  she 
touched  the  chord. 

"  Miss  Graham,  how  do  you  learn  new  music  ?" 
asked  Helen,  too  much  interested  for  her  usual 
fear  of  being  rude  or  impertinent. 

"  My  sister,  who  teaches  in  Granby,  comes 
home  once  a  month,  and  then  she  reads  to  me  all 
that  has  been  sent  while  she  was  gone.  After 
one  reading,  I  can  generally  manage  a  piece." 

Helen's  face  flushed  quickly.  "  I  do  believe 
I  am  the  most  thoughtless,  selfish  creature  that 
ever  lived.  Miss  Graham,  I  wish  you  would 
let  me  read  to  you,"  she  said,  aloud.  "  I  can 
do  it  perfectly  well.  I  can  come  every  day  for 
an  hour."  She  was  very  much  in  earnest,  and 
Miss  Graham  smiled.  The  look  in  her  face 
wasn't  half  as  hard  and  fixed  as  before. 

"  Not  every  day,  my  dear.  I  am  sure  you  are 
too  busy  for  that.  But  I  shall  be  greatly  obliged 
if  .you  will  read  a  piece  to  me  occasionally.  You 
live  next  door  to  the  school  -  house,  don't  you  ? 
I  can  go  in  there  any  time." 

Helen  was  thoroughly  interested,  and  after  a 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  65 

pause  of  a  few  minutes  she  ventured  to  ask,  but 
in  quite  another  tone,  "  Are  the  days  very  dull, 
Miss  Graham  ?" 

"  Not  very,"  said  the  quiet  woman.  "  At  least 
not  now.  They  were  at  first.  I  was  only  twelve 
years  old  when  I  became  blind,  and  it  took  a 
long  time  to  get  accustomed  to  it.  But  mother 
and  I  have  very  nice  times  together.  She  reads 
to  me  sometimes  when  her  voice  is  strong 
enough,  and  I  play  a  good  deal,  you  know. 
Here  comes  Lottie." 

Helen  went  up-stairs  considerably  better  of 
the  home-sickness,  but  somehow  with  a  wonder- 
fully serious  look  on  her  face. 


"  A  man  that  looks  on  glasse, 

On  it  may  stay  his  eye  ; 
Or,  if  he  pleaseth,  through  it  passe, 
And  then  the  heaven  espie." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

IT  is  a  trite  observation,  but  one  that  occasion- 
ally forces  itself  with  special  emphasis  upon 
the  mind,  that  the  longest  period  of  time  does 
have  an  end.  The  girls  took  a  new  sense  of  this 
truth  one  day  when  Dora,  waving  the  almanac 
triumphantly  aloft,  informed  them  that  there 
were  only  three  weeks  and  two  days  more  to 
stay  in  Platoville.  Only  three  weeks,  and  there 
were  ever  so  many  things  to  do  before  they  went 
away.  There  were  the  Shakers  to  visit  some 
Saturday,  and  the  academy  belfry  to  climb  into, 
and  the  old  mill  down  in  the  hollow  to  go  to 
again  and  make  a  sketch  of. 

Since  spring  had  opened  Platoville  pleasures 
had  increased  ten-fold.  The  deacon''s  old  horse, 
without  the  melancholy  bells,  had  come  to  the 
door  almost  every  afternoon  and  helped  them 
find  something  pleasant.  They  had  thoroughly 
explored  the  road  that  led  off  into  the  country 
in  all  its  branches.  They  had  gathered  the  love- 

(69) 


70  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

liest  wild  flowers  over  in  the  belt  of  woods  that 
could  be  seen  from  Helen's  window  (Dennis 
had  sent  a  contribution  from  the  green -house 
at  home  every  week  till  the  arbutus  and  liver- 
wort came).  They  had  found  the  most  charm- 
ing places  along  the  quiet,  grassy  country  roads 
— places  where  a  brook  trickled  down  through 
moss  and  over  stones  and  ran  along  by  their 
sides — openings  in  the  trees,  where  across  acres 
of  sunny  fields  they  saw  the  range  of  blue  hills, 
and  Saranac  behind  them  with  winter  still  about 
his  head — thick,  bushy,  green,  leafy  places,  where 
the  branches  brushed  their  cheeks  on  either  side 
—  sometimes  places  where  the  genuine  forest 
trees  stood  up  around  them  and  the  horse  stepped 
over  the  soft  pine  needles. 

When  the  real  last  days  came,  and  they  had 
shaken  hands  with  the  teachers,  and  promised  to 
write  to  Sarah  Phelps,  and  see  Miss  Smith  and 
Miss  Peck,  with  their  respective  trunks,  drive  off 
in  the  high  wagons  which  their  respective  broth- 
ers sent  for  them,  the  girls  began  to  feel  that 
vague  sense  of  loss  and  sickness  of  heart  that 
comes  with  the  breaking  up  of  almost  any  fa- 
miliar state  of  life,  be  it  joyous  or  grievous. 

Their  winter  was  the  more  thoroughly  ended 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  fi 

and  broken  up  because  they  themselves  were  to 
separate.  Lily  and  Dora  were  to  go  to  their 
uncle  in  Chicago,  to  stay  till  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wood 
should  come  home,  or  send  further  instructions 
in  regard  to  them.  Jennie  Osborne,  after  a  brief 
stop  at  home,  was  to  join  her  mother  at  Saratoga. 
Helen  was  going  home  to  X . 

They  went  off  by  the  earliest  train.  Mrs. 
Green  was  up  and  had  a  hot  breakfast  for  them. 
"  We  shall  miss  you,"  she  said,  wiping  her  face 
with  her  apron,  before  she  kissed  them  good- 
bye. Mr.  Green  was  borne  up  by  a  strong  con- 
viction that  they  would  all  return  in  the  autumn 
to  complete  their  academical  course,  and  the  girls 
were  quite  too  sure  of  his  mistake  to  care  to 
contradict  him.  Lucindy  was  tearful  and  jealous, 
and  when  the  coach  came  back  for  Lily's  shawl, 
which  had  been  left  behind,  rushed  wildly  up- 
stairs and  brought  down  the  old  red  table-cover. 

At  Springfield,  Lily  and  Dora,  being  met  by 
the  gentlemanly  clerk  sent  on  for  the  purpose, 
took  the  western  train. 

"  Old  girl,  I  wish  you  were  going  too,"  said 
Lily,  always  soft-hearted  at  parting,  and  the  two 
girls  laid  their  pretty  cheeks  together  for  a  mo- 
ment. Dora  was  in  spirits  beyond  the  power  of 


>j2  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

parting  to  affect,  but  she  was  really  more  fond 
of  her  cousin  than  Lily  was.  Jennie,  in  deep 
dejection  and  sobs,  drew  down  her  veil,  closed 
her  blind,  and  spread  herself  out  on  the  deserted 
seat.  In  less  than  ten  minutes  Helen  heard  her 
chatting  gayly  with  a  perfect  stranger,  in  yellow 
kids  and  yellow  moustache,  in  the  seat  behind 
her.  Before  the  ten  minutes  had  passed,  the  seat 
by  Helen's  side  was  quietly  taken  by  a  small, 
elegant,  iron-gray-haired  gentleman. 

"  Oh,  isn't  this  splendid !"  said  Helen,  with  a 
very  bright  face,  when  turning  her  eyes  from 
the  river  she  had  been  watching,  she  first  dis- 
covered him.  After  that,  she  hadn't  a  thought 
of  book,  or  bag,  or  bundle,  or  of  Eastville  Junc- 
tion, where  they  were  to  change  cars  again,  and 
where  both  she  and  Jennie  had  been  very  sure 
they  should  take  the  wrong  train  and  go  back  to 
Platoville.  Everything  was  quietly  taken  care  of 
by  this  little  gentleman,  who  was  the  most  per- 
fect of  travelers. 

Before  they  reached  X ,  Helen  and  Jennie 

began  to  say  their  last  words,  and  as  we  shall  see 

little  of  Jennie  in  the  days  to  come;  perhaps  "we, 

too,  had  better  say  good-bye  now.      The  two 

*  girls  met  in  a  shop  or  on  the  street  a  few  times 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  73 

during  the  next  two  or  three  years,  and  when 
Helen  was  visiting  in  Chicago  she  received  some 
pink -tinted  wedding  cards,  and  learned  that 
Jennie  had  married  a  very  wealthy  widower 
with  six  children. 

When  the  trains  drew  up  at  last  in  the  old, 
familiar,  smoky,  dingy,  disgraceful  depot  of  the 

lovely  city  of  X ,  there  was  Peter,  grown 

several  shades  blacker,  Helen  was  sure,  and  the 
black  horses,  and  the  glossy  carriage  which  Mr. 
Saxton  had  had  newly  lined  with  very  dark 
brown  satin,  "  to  match  Peter,  I  suppose,"  said 
Helen. 

It  was  altogether  delicious  to  wake  the  next 
morning  and  become  gradually  conscious  that 
the  summer  morning  breeze  was  coming  in 
through  soft,  lace  curtains  and  not  from  under 
the  little  flapping  paper  shade — to  look  dreamily 
about  the  spacious,  high-ceiled  room  and  realize, 
though  feebly  at  first,  that  there  was  no  danger 
of  knocking  the  inkstand  off  the  round  table  if 
an  elbow  was  thrust  out  of  bed. 

It  was  so  delightfully  lazy  and  luxurious,  and 

Helen,  it  must  be  confessed,  was  very  fond  of 

laziness  and  luxury,  to  lie  and  look  at  herself  in 

the  long  mirror  opposite,  cushioned  among  the 

4 


74  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

piles  of  soft,  white  things,  and  canopied  by  deli- 
cate lace ;  and  the  crimson  silk  coverlet,  care- 
lessly thrown  over  the  foot  of  the  bed,  was  such 
an  elegant  contrast.  It  was  even  delightful  to 
hear  the  newsboy  crying  the  morning  paper. 
Helen  listened  with  interest  to  each  particular 
rise  and  fall  of  his  voice  as  he  came  up  the 
avenue,  past  the  house,  and  round  the  corner 
down  the  next  street,  and  lazily  wondered  if  it 
were  the  same  freckly,  merry -faced  boy,  or  if 
the  vocal  parts  of  all  newsboys  were  precisely 
alike. 

Mr.  Saxton  was  always  late  in  breakfasting, 
and  there  was  plenty  of  time  to  begin  to  unpack 
her  trunk  and  scatter  things  about  the  floor ; 
to  begin  a  letter  to  Lily,  and  to  look  over  her 
precious  books  and  "  things"  in  the  little  room 
opening  out  of  her  bed-room,  and  decide  what 
she  must  send  for  over  to  Uncle  Roger's  right 
after  breakfast. 

Down -stairs  everything  was  pleasant,  too. 
The  long  windows  were  open  on  to  the  green 
grass.  Mr.  Saxton,  who  hated  pretensions, 
would  not  have  it  called  a  lawn  ;  but  it  was  as 
soft  and  smooth  as  velvet,  and  went  off  in  a  broad 
sunny  slope  towards  the  green-houses  and  the 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


75 


barn.  Dennis  had  set  out  some  of  the  larger 
plants  in  smiling  rows  against  the  hedge,  and  a 
few  fragrant  ones  stood  in  clusters  close  by  the 

open  windows. 

Coffee  was  altogether  such  a  different   thing 

out  of  the  delicate  porcelain  cups  ;  and  Mr.  Sax- 
ton  at  his  end  of  the  table,  and  Mitty  at  hers, 
were  two  as  pleasant  people  to  see  as  one  often 
meets  at  breakfast. 

Twenty  years  ago,  before  there  were  any  gray 
in  his  hair,  Mr.  Saxton  had  bought  this  hand- 
some house  on  the  avenue  and  fitted  it  up  in 
nearly  its  present  style.  Many  were  the  con- 
jectures among  the  polite  of  X as  to  the 

reasons  for  this  movement,  but  nothing  more 
astonishing  happened  than  that  he  continued  to 
live  there  with  his  housekeeper  and  servants  till 
he  was  comparatively  an  old  man.  He  seldom 
entertained  company,  in  the  ordinary  meaning 
of  that  phrase,  but  sometimes  one  or  two  pale- 
cheeked  book-keepers  would  board  with  him 
during  the  summer  months ;  and  when  poor 
clergymen  or  foreign  missionaries  were  in  town, 
they  were  very  apt  to  be  found  "  putting  up"  at 
Mr.  Saxton's. 

Mrs.  Submit  Cook,  always  known  as  Mitty, 


76  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

had  been  a  sempstress  in  the  Saxton  family  be- 
fore and  after  the  death  of  the  lamented  Mr. 
Cook,  and  came  to  Mr.  Edward  soon  after  he 
took  this  house.  It  was  Helen's  opinion  that  he 
got  her  as  he  did  the  pictures  and  the  bronzes, 
as  an  ornament.  With  her  rippling  gray  hair, 
her  delicate  face,  her  black  dress,  and  the  white 
lace  folded  across  her  bosom,  she  was  gentility . 
itself ;  and  though  she  seldom  uttered  a  sentence 
without  egregiously  insulting  her  mother  tongue, 
she  was  blessed  to  such  a  degree  with  the  grace 
of  silence,  and  had  such  pretty  manners,  that 
she  was  universally  admired. 

After  breakfast,  Helen  went  with  her  guardian 
into  the  front  room,  peculiarly  his  own,  and  call- 
ed by  the  servants  the  library,  and  there  saw 
him  brush  his  hat  and  put  on  his  gloves,  and 
received  her  quarterly  allowance.  His  words 
were  brief,  for  the  carriage  already  stood  at  the 
door  to  take  him  down  to  the  docks. 

"  You  had  better  take  a  drive  this  morning, 
my  child.  Mitty  will  be  charmed  to  go  with 
you  and  show  you  the  novelties.  I  shall  be  home 
to  dinner  at  five." 

By  ten  o'clock,  they  were  bowling  along  the 
broad  avenue  in  the  open  carriage  en  route 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE: 


77 


for  "  Haberdasher's.''  Here,  after  feasting  her 
eyes  on  the  piles  of  sweet,  fresh,  summery-look- 
ing things,  and  buying  a  lovely  lilac  cambric 
spotted  with  daisies,  and  a  blue  and  white  or- 
gandy, and  uncounted  ribbons,  Helen  went  to 
another  part  of  the  store,  and,  after  much  con- 
sultation with  Mitty,  made  some  rather  different- 
( 
looking  purchases. 

These  she  caused  to  be  done  up  in  a  stout, 
square,  business-like  bundle  by  the  obliging 
clerk,  and  the  same  assiduous  youth  was  only  too 
happy  to  bring  pen  and  ink  to  the  counter  that 
she  might  direct  it  herself. 

Those  collars  and  cuffs  won't  fit  him  anyway, 
and  I  don't  believe  he  II  want  a  black  alpaca 
dressing-gown,"  said  the  young  lady  to  herself, 
with  an  air  of  satisfaction,  as  she  made  the  last 
flourish  with  the  stiff  steel  pen.  And  when  they 
went  out  she  told  Peter  to  go  next  to  the  ex- 
press office. 

"  Now,  Mitty,  are  we  through  ?" 

"Air  you  going  to  "  Mechlin's  for  anything  ?" 
said  Mitty,  gently. 

"  No,  I  was  n't ;  but  we  can,  of  course." 

"  I  only  thought  I'd  like  to  have  you  look  at 
some  collars  they  have  there.  They're  imitation 


78  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

of  some  kind  of  lace — '  Mohammedan,'  seems  to 
me  they  call  it " 

"  Oh,  Mitty,"  said  Helen,  wickedly,  "  not  '  Mo- 
hammedan'— you  mean  '  Hottentot,'  don't  you  ?" 

"  Well,  I  guess  that  is  it.  I  never  remember 
these  queer  names.  They're  pretty,  and  cheap 
too.  I  thought  of  getting  one  for  Sarah  Jane." 

"  I'd  have  one  by  all  means,"  said  Helen, 
"  Yes,  Peter,  to  '  Mechlin's'  next." 

Sarah  Jane  was  Mitty's  married  daughter,  for 
whom  and  for  whose  children,  this  softest-heart- 
ed of  grandmothers  lived  and  had  her  being. 
Many  were  the  cunningly-devised  garments  and 
the  boxes  of  sweetmeats  that  went  from  the 
housekeeper's  room  to  the  neighboring  city 
where  Sarah  Jane  lived. 

X was  lovely  through  the  early  June  days, 

but  one  morning,  when  Helen  came  down  in  a 
white  muslin  wrapper,  and  Mitty  put  ice  in  her 
tea,  and  even  Mr.  Saxton. fanned  himself  with 
his  newspaper,  everybody  began  to  think  of  the 
sea-side.  It  had  been  arranged  that  Helen  and 
Mitty  should  go  down  to  Siloam  through  the 
warm  weather,  and  that  Mr.  Saxton,  who  rarely 

left  his  business  even  in  summer,  should  spend 
a  Sunday  with  them  when  he  could. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  79 

Helen  loved  nothing  as  she  did  the  sea,  but 
she  had  always  gone  to  it  before  subject  to  the 
restrictions  of  her  fashionable  aunt  and  cousins. 
This  time  she  meant  to  enjoy  it  with  all  her 
heart,  and  was  eager  to  go.  She  would  have 
urged  it  before,  but  for  a  feeling  of  reluctance  to 
go  away  so  soon  again  from  her  guardian,  whose 
wise  and  thoughtful  kindness  to  her  she  was  be- 
ginning to  notice  more  and  more,  and  to  bless 
him  for.  But  now  when  he  spoke  of  going,  there 
was  no  mistaking  what  her  face  said  about  it. 

"  Your  rooms  are  waiting  for  you.  There  is 
no  reason  why  you  should  n't  go  to  -  morrow. 
You  can  begin  to  pack  to-day,  my  dear,  and  if 
my  observations  have  been  correct,  to  a  young 
lady,  packing  is  half  the  pleasure  of  going." 

Helen  did  pack  that  very  morning.  She  put 
in  her  sketching  material  (which  were  never 
taken  out  of  the  trunk  through  the  whole  sum- 
mer)—  a  few  books  —  her  "Earthly  Paradise," 
which  her  guardian  had  just  given  her — the  pad- 
locked book  (which  remained  with  the  sketch- 
book at  the  bottom  of  the  trunk  all  summer — a 
little  limber  Testament  that  would  go  in-  her 
pocket,  and  an  old  copy  of  Thomas  a  Kempis. 
For  this  last,  she  had  spent  a  whole  morning  at 


8o  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUXE. 

her  Uncle  Roger's  deserted  house,  hunting  among 
her  mother's  old  books. 

For  the  first  few  days  at  the  sea-side  Helen 
was  supremely  happy.  She  could  keep  on  her 
buff  linen  dress  from  breakfast  till  bed-time  if 
she  chose,  and  sit  on  the  rocks  all  day  long.  She 
cared  for  nothing,  thought  of  nothing  but  the 
bounding,  dashing  water  at  her  feet.  Years 
afterwards,  sitting  on  those  same  rocks,  some- 
body told  her  (foolishly  enough,  as  the  strong- 
minded  reader  will  observe),  that  he  was  jealous 
of  only  one  thing  in  this  world,  and  that  was  the 
sea.  She  loved  it  as  something  akin  to  her. 

"  It  is  so  restless — it  is  so  like  me,"  she  would 
think.  "  It  is  always  struggling  so — battering 
away  at  these  rocks  —  falling  back  defeated  — 
coming  up  again  with  sunshine  on  its  forehead. 
It  has  such  a  double  nature — clapping  its  hands 
in  glee — moaning  a  perpetual  sadness.  Never 
still  —  never  satisfied.  Oh,  sea,  oh,  sea,  when 
shall  we  both  lie  still  together  ?  There  is  only 
one  Voice  that  can  bid  us  be  calm.  And  yet 
God's  sunlight  shines  upon  it  so.  Such  wealth 
of  brilliancy  he  pours  out  upon  it — such  depths 
of  his  own  heaven's  blue  he  mirrors  in  it,  and 
the  stars  shine  down  into  its  very  heart." 


3SJSS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  gl 

Under  her  little  brown  umbrella  (if  she  thought 
to  put  it  up),  all  sorts  of  fresh,  sweet,  strength- 
ening things  came  into  her  mind.  Little  songs 
would  sing  themselves  there.  They  never  got 
on  to  paper,  probably  they  were  not  worth  it. 
But  they  would  go  on  in  her  head  for  days  to- 
gether in  pretty  musical  numbers.  And  with 
all  the  other  things — the  sunshine,  the  airs,  the 
books,  in  her  pocket  and  in  her  mind,  the  lives 
she  knew  something  of,  the  life  she  knew  most 
about  down  in  her  own  heart,  the  wishes  that 
would  come  and  were  hard  to  put  down,  the 
longings,  the  hopes — with  all  these  things  they  did 
the  work  whereunto  they  were  sent.  For  back 
of  the  soft,  brown  eyes  and  the  white  forehead 
there  was  going  on  something  just  as  wonderful 
and  just  as  beautiful  as  goes  on  under  the  brown 
earth  when  spring  rains  and  sunshine  are  sent 
down  upon  it. 

Mitty  did  not  share  the  pleasures  of  the  watch- 
er by  the  sea.  With  her  back  to  the  water  (the 
glare  hurt  her  eyes),  she  stitched  little  red  merino 
frocks  and  ruminated  peacefully. 

"  I  don't  see,  for  my  part,  what  pleasure  there 
is  in  setting  out  there  on  those  rocks  in  the  blaz- 
ing sun,  and  getting  tanned  as  brown  as  a  berry. 
4* 


8 2  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

There's  that  child.  I  should  think  she'd  a  great 
deal  rather  take  a  little  sewing,  or  a  book  some- 
times, and  set  down  in  the  house.  She  does  take 
a  book  out  there,  but  I  don't  see  as  she  ever 
opens  it.  But  she  ain't  the  only  one  that  does 
so.  There  are  troops  of  'em  that  come  from  the 
city  every  day  and  seem  to  like  to  set  still  for 
hours  and  poke  their  parasols  into  the  sand. 
And  that  woman  that  sets  opposite  us  at  the 
table.  She  puts  on  the  awfullest  looking  old  hat 
every  day  and  goes  off  into  the  woods,  and 
never  comes  back  till  bathing  time,  and  then  she 
goes  in  looking  like  Sancho  Panzy,  with  all  the 
rest  of  them.  I  don't  see  what  folks  want  to 
make  themselves  look  so  for.  And  for  my  part, 
I  think  it's  a  great  deal  more  convenient,  besides 
being  more  decent,  to  wash  yourself  in  your  own 
room." 

After  dinner,  Mitty  would  be  persuaded  to  lay 
aside  her  work  and  sit  on  the  veranda,  the  pic- 
ture of  contented  respectability. 

Helen  was  always  proud  of  the  gentle-faced, 
gray  -  haired  woman,  but  their  dialogues  were 
sometimes  of  a  funny  description. 

"  Isn't  that  lovely  ?"  Helen  would  say,  sitting 
on  a  low  scat  by  Mitty's  side,  her  cheeks  resting 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  83 

on  her  hands,  and  her  eyes  on  the  little  ship  just 
rounding  the  point  with  the  sunset  on  its  sails. 

"  Yes,  I  was  jest  a  thinking  that  you  might 
have  your  old  blue  silk  fixed  up  so.  There's 
plenty  of  it.  Two  whole  breadths  that  ain't 
gored  at  all  ?" 

A  pretty  little  steamer  plied  daily  between  the 
hotel  and  Siloam  light-house.  Troops  of  people 
went  over  every  day,  and  Helen  heard  them  say- 
ing what  a  charming  sail  it  was  through  the  Needle 
islands  and  along  the  shore.  The  rocks  at  the 
lighthouse,  too,  were  very  fine,  and  there  was  a 
sort  of  whirlpool,  wonderful  to  see.  Helen  con- 
ceived a  desire  to  go  over  there  some  day,  but 
Mitty  demurred. 

"  Steamboats  smell  so,  and  if  you  set  out  on 
deck  you  get  cinders  all  over  your  clothes.  And 
there's  nothing  tans  like  the  reflection  from  the 
water." 

Helen  tried  to  give  up  gracefully.  She  could 
be  happy  on  her  rocks  forever,  yet  she  felt  that 
v  her  capacity  for  happiness  might  admit  of  a 
wider  range  of  objects.  She  had  a  pleasant  word 
occasionally  with  some  of  the  guests,  but  she 
was  not  of  the  kind  to  make  acquaintance  easily, 
and  besides,  all  the  parties  were  complete  in 


84  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

themselves,  and  did  n't  want  her.  So  she  still 
sat  under  the  brown  umbrella,  with  pleasant 
thoughts  for  company. 

Sometimes  she  would  look  a  little  wistfully  at 
the  long  lines  of  merry  bathers.  Sometimes  she 
would  gaze  offinto  the  woods  beyond  the  "  neck," 
"  but  that  is  probably  a  great  deal  farther  off  than 
it  looks,  and  I  should  get  very  tired,  and,  besides, 
I  ought  not  to  go  so  far  from  Mitty,"  she  always 
concluded.  "At  least  we  might  take  a  drive," 
she  thought,  one  day,  and  forthwith  made  the 
proposition.  "  It's  awful  wheeling  in  the  sand, 
you  know,"  said  Mitty,  serenely,  "  and,  besides, 
what  is  there  to  see  ? — nothing  but  sand,  and 
rocks,  and  water." 

"That's  a  pretty  apron  you're  making;  Mitty," 
answered  Helen,  somewhat  irrelevantly,  (possibly 
bethinking  herself  that  it  might  be  agreeable  to 
Mitty  to  have  somebody  show  some  interest  in 
her  favorite  pursuits.) 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  is.     Would  you  make  it  with 
them  things — brocatels,  I  believe  they  call  'em —  f 
over  the  shoulders?" 

"  I  certainly  should,"  said  Helen. 

It  was  a  resource  to  watch  the  people,  There 
were  the  usual  varieties — the  snobs,  male  and 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  g$ 

female ;  the  maids  and  matrons,  standing  in  ruf- 
fles up  to  their  chins,  and  looking  as  if  another 
curl  would   kill  -them.     These  were   they  who 
breakfasted  in  their  rooms,  spent  the  best  part  of 
the  gorgeous  August  day  under  the  hairdresser's 
hands,  came  out  of  the  chrysalis  of  dinner,  prom- 
enaded religiously  for  an  hour  after  on  the  broad 
verandas,  and  spent  the  night  in  hops.      Then 
there  were  the  stiff,  solemn  people,  who  seemed 
to  come  here  from  a  grim  sense  of  duty,  and 
made  a  dismal  protest  against  the  follies  of  fash- 
ion, by   making  themselves  as  ugly  as  possible. 
There  were  anxious-looking  mothers  with  sickly 
babies,  that  were  taken  out   struggling,  to   be 
dipped  two  or  three  times  a  day.     These  were 
the  ones  to  whom  Helen  always  wanted  to  say 
something,  but  seldom  dared  to.     There  were  a 
few  of  the  free,  sensible  people  who  did  as  they 
pleased,  and  were  happy.     The  most  attractive 
of  these,  to  Helen,  was  a  cheery,  bustling  little 
woman  who  sat  nearly  opposite  them  at  table. 
She  seemed  to  have  no  special  connection  with 
anybody,  though  she  was  on  familiar  terms  with 
a  widow  lady  and  a  fair,  light-haired  girl,  who 
sat  next  her.     The  girl  called  the  cheery  little 
lady  Miss  Maria.     She  was  such  a  business-like 


86  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

little  lady.  Piles  of  letters  came  to  her  every 
morning,  and  she  would  look  them  over,  and  as- 
sort them,  and  make  little  notes  on  the  backs  of 
them  with  astonishing  despatch.  She  tore  open 
her  newspaper  like  a  man,  and  would  know  all 
there  was  in  it  before  her  breakfast  came. 
"  Fighting  still ! — when  will  they  stop  ?  That 
rascally  old  imbecile,  Pius ! — fifteen  missionaries 
eaten  up  by  the  Chinese !  —  yes,  omelette  this 
morning,  that's  right;  thank  you." 

And  yet,  withal,  there  was  such  an  unmistaka- 
ble womanliness  about  her.  "  Ida,  child,  you 
are  not  getting  half  brown  enough.  What  shall 
we  do  to  you?  Mrs.  Manly,  I'm  almost  afraid 
the  sea  isn't  quite  the  thing  for  her,"  as  the  light- 
haired  girl  walked  slowly  away ;  "  I  wonder  if 
the  mountains  wouldn't  have  been  better." 

One  day  a  tall,  dark,  rather  grave-looking  gen- 
tleman appeared  with  this  lady  at  dinner.  He 
talked  little,  but  freely  and  pleasantly  when  he 
did  talk,  and  less  like  a  learned  man  than  like  a 
wise  man,  Helen  thought.  The  awkwardness  of 
the  schools  was  upon  him,  and  Helen  set  him 
down  at  once  as  a  minister  or  a  professor. 

"  I  guess  he's  her  husband,"  whispered  Mitty. 
"  But  it's  a  queer  match." 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUXE.  g/ 

But  whatever  his  relation  to  the  lady,  he  made 
a  very  short  visit — going  off  on  the  evening  boat, 
and  Helen  had  doubts  of  Mitty's  theory,  when, 
at  parting,  the  cheery  little  lady  shook  his  hand 
heartily,  thanked  him  for  coming  down,  and  said 
that  "  Sister  would  be  very  much  gratified  when 
she  heard  of  his  promise." 

A  day  or  two  after  this  little  episode  came  the 
first  rain.  The  water  was  gray  and  rough,  and 
had  a  dull  roar  in  its  voice.  Helen  wrote  a  let- 
ter to  Lily,  in  the  morning,  and  had  designs  on 
the  padlocked  book,  but,  changing  her  mind, 
took  worsted  work  and  went  into  Mitty's 
room. 

Lunch  was  a  dull  and  spiritless  affair — quite 
beneath  the  attention  of  the  waiters — and  stop- 
ping in  the  parlor,  before  going  up  stairs,  Helen 
found  them  quite  deserted.  It  was  a  good  time 
to  try  the  piano.  She  shut  one  of  the  folding- 
doors,  and  played  two  or  three  pieces,  in  great 
comfort  and  peace  of  mind.  But,  presently,  in 
at  one  of  the  long  windows  came  the  tall,  light- 
haired  girl,  their  neighbor  at  table.  "  Mother 
told  me  not  to,  but  I  couldn't  help  it,"  she  said, 
walking  straight  up  to  Helen.  "  I  do  love  it  so. 
Please  keep  on.  If  you  don't,  I  shall  run  right 


88  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

away  again.  I'd  give  any  thing  if  I  could  play 
like  that,"  sighed  the  girf,  at  the  end  of  the  gen- 
tle little  Slumber  Song. 

Helen  instinctively  looked  at  her  hands.  It 
was  difficult  for  her  to  comprehend  that  any- 
body could  have  fingers  and  not  play.  Then 
they  both  laughed. 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  my  hands  ;  but  they  say  I  haven't 
any  perseverance.  It  tires  me  so  to  practice.  I 
never  get  on  any  ;  and  last  year  mother  had  me 
give  up  music  entirely.  She  said  'twas  no  use. 
Now,  please  play  some  more.  I'll  be  just  as 
good  as  can  be,  and  not  trouble  you  a  bit."  * 

She  was  such  an  appealing  and  such  a  grateful 
listener,  that  Helen  hadn't  it  in  her  heart  to  re- 
fuse ;  but,  as  she  had  feared,  that  wasn't  the  end 
of  it.  The  door  opened,  and  two  other  girls, 
arm  in  arm,  came  in.  They,  of  course,  left  the 
door  open,  and  two  more  came  in ;  and  when 
Helen  turned  round,  at  the  end  of  her  piece,  she 
found  herself  fairly  surrounded  and  caught. 

"  Do  keep  on  ;  it's  so  nice,"  cried  half  a  dozen 
lively  voices. 

"  I  didn't  know  there  was  any  body  here  that 
played  so.  Why,  we  might  have  a  dance.  You 
play  waltzes,  don't  you  ?"  said  one. 


MISS  ROBER  TS '  FOR  TUNE:  89 

"  No,  don't  dance  yet.  Please  play  something 
else  ;  something  lively,"  said  another. 

Helen  had  a  great  mind  to  make  a  stand  then 
and  there,  and  refuse  to  play  another  note.  She 
couldn't  bear  to  play  to  promiscuous  companies. 
She  never  had  done  it.  She  was  in  the  habit  of 
playing  only  when  she  was  in  the  mood  for  it, 
and  to  those  who  liked  ("appreciated,"  she  was 
apt  to  say  to  herself,  instead  of  liked)  the  kind  of 
.  music  she  liked  best.  Besides,  she  was  really 
timid.  She  never  did  herself  justice  in  com- 
pany. 

"  I  know  just  what  they  want,"  she  said  to  her- 
self; "jingling,  nonsensical  stuff.  I  can't  play 
that  sort  of  thing.  And,  besides,  I  shall  get 
frightened  and  break  down.  And  then  I  don't 
know  why  I  should.  I  sat  down  here  to  play  for 
myself.  I  was  willing  enough  to  let  this  one  girl 
listen,  but  I  didn't  propose  to  entertain  the  whole 
establishment." 

But  other  things  came  into  her  mind — hardly 
thoughts — little   scraps   of  things — coming,  she 
hardly  knew  whence  :  "  Seeketh  not  her  own  ;" 
"is  not  puffed  up;"  "a  work  of  lowly  love  to  • 
do;"  "let  every  one  please  his  neighbor!" 

"  Yes,  I'll  try.     If  I  can  think  of   anything," 


pO  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

she  said  pleasantly  ;  and,  after  fumbling  the  keys 
a  little,  she  struck  out  into  a  brilliant  "  fantasia." 
"  I  don't'  like  it,  but  I  guess  they  will,"  she 
thought.  She  made  a  good  many  mistakes. 
That  long  running  passage  went  wretchedly, 
and  she  had  to  go  back  and  begin  it  again. 
Two  very  pink  spots  appeared  on  her  two 
cheeks,  and  her  fingers  felt  stiff  and  unnatural. 
But  she  was  greeted  with  shouts  of  applause 
when  she  finished,  and  the  Rubicon  being  passed, 
she  went  on  then  and  thought  of  ever  so  many 
more  old  things  which  she  had  n't  touched  for 
months,  and  which  she  played  poorly  enough, 
she  thought,  but  with  great  success,  so  far  as  her 
audience  was  concerned.  Before  long,  there  be- 
ing a  lull  in  the  cries  for  more,  she  was  surprised 
to  find  herself  talking  freely  with  these  girls. 
Some  of  those  on  the  outer  edges  of  the  circle 
had  strayed  off,  but  the  fair-haired  Ida  and  five 
or  six  others  remained.  It  was  astonishing  how 
many  things  there  were  for  them  to  talk  about — 
the  great  number  of  guests  here  this  year,  the 
comparative  delights  of  Siloam  and  of  Newport, 
'the  stupidity  of  Saratoga,  the  rocks,  finally  the 
light-house. 

"  Have  you  been  down  there  ?"  said  Ida.    "  It's 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  gi 

so  nice.  We've  been  two  or  three  times.  We're 
going  again  to-morrow.  Why  can't  you  go  too  ? 
By  we  I  mean-  these  girls  here,"  touching  two 
who  sat  on  the  floor  at  her  feet,  "  and  mother  and 
Miss  Maria  and  me." 

"  Who  is  Miss  Maria  ?  if  it  isn't  impertinent," 
said  Helen. 

"  Why,  Miss  Maria  Prescott,  don't  you  know  ? 
You've  heard  of  Miss  Prescott's  school  at  Ox- 
ford ?"  exclaimed  the  girls  in  chorus. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Maria's  lovely ;  but  Miss  Prescott — 
I'm  awfully  afraid  of  her,"  said  one,  leaning  over 
Ida's  chair  and  shaking  a  head  full  of  silly  curls. 

It  seemed  that  nearly  all  of  them  had  been,  at 
some  time  or  other,  at  Miss  Prescott's  school. 

"  You  know,  we're  going  to  have  some  new 
teachers,"  said  Ida — "  a  Mrs.  Somebody  from  Ger- 
many and  her  daughter.  They're  coming  on  the 
next  steamer.  The  lady  is  an  old  friend  of  Miss 
Prescott's,  I  believe.  She's  lived  abroad  for 
ever  so  long,  and  the  daughter  is  awfully  learn- 
ed. Well, —  that  was  what  I  was  beginning  to 
say.  We're  all  going  down  to  the  light-house, 
and  Miss  Maria's  going  to  take  the  boat  from 
there  to  New  York  to  meet  these  people. 
Mother  and  I  are  going  with  her,  and  then  we 


92  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUXE. 

shall  keep  on  to  the  Catskills.     They've  taken  a 
notion  that  the  sea  air  isn't  good  for  me." 

"  Why  cant  you  go  down  to  the  light-house 
with  us?"  said  one  of  the  girls. 

"  I  should  love  to,  dearly,  if  Mitty  can  bring 
her  mind  to  it.  I'll  see,"  said  Helen. 

"  Oh,  do"  said  Ida,  who  had  a  very  loving 
little  heart,  and  was  so  happy  as  never  to  be 
troubled  by  timid,  reserved,  queer  feelings  or 
ways,  and  she  put  her  arm  around  Helen's  neck 
(Helen  was  now  on  a  low  ottoman  beside  her) 
and  gave  her  a  little  squeeze. 

"  These  demonstrative  people,"  thought  Helen, 
quickly,  shrinking  a  little.  Then  she  lifted  her 
honest,  brown  eyes  and  looked  into  Ida's  soft, 
blue  ones,  and  gave  herself  a  sharp  little  lecture. 
"Warm-heartedness  is  a  good  thing,  anywhere 
and  everywhere,  and  you  shan't  be  so  unjust  and 
hateful  about  it." 

"  I  wish  I  could  go.  I  certainly  will  if  I  can," 
she  said  aloud. 

In  half  an  hour  the  girls  were  seated  around 
a  table  playing  the  newly -invented  game  of 
"  Snap,"  which  Helen  had  been  so  fortunate  as 
to  propose.  It  had  been  one  of  the  Platoville 
resources. 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  T  UNE.  93 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  the  elderly 
ladies,  in  their  pretty  caps  and  soft  laces,  began 
to  come  in  and  drop  into  gentle  groups  on  the 
sofas.  A  few  restless  gentlemen  strolled  in  and 
out,  joked  with  the  old  ladies,  looked  pleasantly 
on  the  young  ones,  whistled  under  their  breaths, 
and  looked  at  their  watches  to  see  if  it  were  not 
time  for  the  afternoon  mail.  Miss  Maria,  with 
her  hands  full  of  papers  and  letters  (when  the 
mail  had  come  in),  stopped  for  a  moment  to  say 
a  pleasant  word. 

"  So  you  were  the  Pied  Piper  that  brought  out 
all  these  quiet  mice,"  she  said  to  Helen.  "  I 
know,  at  least,  two  young  ladies  who  would  have 
spent  the  day  in  deep  dejection  and  retirement 
from  the  world  if  it  had  n't  been  for  the  music. 
And  here  they  are  playing  this  most  remarkable 
game.  Life  has  some  pleasures  left,  if  it  does 
rain — eh,  Nettie  ?"  and  she  pinched  the  cheek  of 
the  black-haired  girl  nearest  her. 

Helen  went  to  bed  that  night  quite  decided 
that  it  was  an  unusually  agreeable  set  of  people 
at  the  hotel  this  season,  ftnd  resolved  to  broach 
the  subject  of  the  light-house  to  Mitty  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning. 

Mitty's  whole  soul  had  been  so  bent  on  the 


94  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

finishing  of  a  little  dress  that  evening  that  she 
had  n't  dared  to  mention  it  yet. 

But,  in  the  morning,  Mitty  had  one  of  her 
miserable  headaches.  "  No,  you  can  't  do  any- 
thing for  me,  child,"  she  said,  lifting  up  a  face 
almost  as  white  as  her  pillows.  "You  needn't 
set  here  in  this  dark  room  all  day.  I  shall  be 
better  by  noon." 

"  I  do  n't  suppose  I  can  do  a  thing  for  her  if  I 
stay,"  thought  Helen ;  "  but  it  would  be  down- 
right cruelty  for  me  to  tell  her  so  and  go  off." 

So  she  went  down,  with  rather  a  grave  face,  to 
breakfast  alone,  and  waited  on  the  veranda  for 
her  new  friends,  and  told  them  good-bye,  and 
saw  them  go  off  in  the  merry  little  "  Sunbeam." 

In  the  afternoon,  Mitty  was  better,  and  at  the 
inevitable  stitching.  "  I  had  stinted  myself  to 
get  this  done  last  night  and  begin  the  buff  one 
to-day,"  she  said,  "  but  I  felt  so  bad  last  night 
that  I  had  to  give  it  up,  and  I  hate  to  get  behind- 
hand. No,  child,  't  won't  hurt  me.  I  feel  better 
to  be  doing  something." 

Helen  sat  at  the  other  window,  her  worsted- 
work  in  her  lap,  her  eyes  on  the  water.  She 
had  been  trying  to  be  good  all  day,  and  was 
rather  tired  of  it,  it  must  be  confessed.  Pres- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  95 

ently  there  was  a  sound  of  horses'  feet  on  the 
gravel  in  front  of  the  house,  and  a  gay  party  of 
riders,  three  gentlemen  and  three  ladies,  started 
out  over  the  neck  and  along  the  beach. 

"  Oh,  Mitty,  why  haven't  I  thought  of  it  before  ? 
I  might  ride  every  day.  They  loak  like  capital 
horses.  I'll  have  one  to-morrow." 

"  You  wouldn't  think  of  horse-back  riding  here  ; 
not  alone,  certain,"  said  Mitty,  gently. 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  'twould  be  hardly  safe,"  was  the 
mild  answer. 

"  Why,  I'm  a  first-rate  rider,  and  I'm  not  a  bit 
afraid." 

"  May  be  you  ain't,  but  that  don't  make  that 
'twould  be  safe  for  you  to  go  off  alone." 

"  Well,  Mitty,  I'll  give  up  on  that  point.  I'll 
have  a  man  go  with  me." 

"Well,"  said  Mitty,  with  a  little  spirit  —  she 
was  tired,  too,  poor  soul  —  "you  can  do  as  you 
please,  I  suppose.  I  don't  think  Mr.  Saxton 
would  like  it ;  but  you're  of  age.  You  can  go 
if  you  want  to." 

"  Now,  Mitty,"  said  Helen,  in  an  aggrieved 
tone,  "  as  if  that  would  make  any  difference. 
And  I'm  not  of  age  either.  By  my  mother's 


96  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

will,  I'm  not  of  age  till  I  am  twenty-one.  And 
you  know,  Mitty,  I  wouldn't  do  anything  to  dis- 
please my  guardian." 

"  I  think  it  would  displease  him,"  said  Mitty, 
mild  again. 

"  Why  ?     He's  a  reasonable  man." 

"  Yes,  and  he's  a  careful  man,  too,  and  I  know 
he  wouldn't  think  it  safe  or  proper  for  any  young- 
lady  to  go  off  riding  on  strange  horses,  without 
somebody  to  advise  her  that  knows  more  than 
you  or  I  do,  let  alone  you.  You  know  you  ain't 
as  strong  as  some  folks,  child." 

Helen  sighed.  Mitty  spoke  with  her  usual 
good  sense.  If  she  had  only  been  unreasonable 
it  would  have  been  a  comfort. 

"  I'd  write  and  ask  him  anyway,"  suggested 
Mitty. 

Helen  wrote  that  very  afternoon,  and  put  the 
case  pretty  strongly  she  afterward  suspected. 
The  answer  came  the  next  day. 

"  About  the  riding,  if  you  can  wait  till  Satur- 
day, we  will  have  that  matter  settled.  I  am  go- 
ing down  to  spend  the  Sabbath,  and  would  like 
to  choose  your  horse  myself." 

How  could  Helen  know?  —  she  didn't,  and 
doesn't  to  this  day  —  of  another  letter  that  was 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  gj 

sent  from    Mr.  Saxton's  office  that  same  after- 
noon : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR, — It  will  be  impossible  for  me 
to  meet  you  as  agreed  Saturday  P.  M.  I  think  it 
probable  that  Mr.  Jones,  of  101  State  St.  (to 
whom  I  am  happy  to  enclose  a  note  introducing 
yourself),  will  be  interested  in  listening  to  your 
scheme." 

Mr.  Jones  did  listen,  and  was  one  of  the  mil- 
lionaires of  X before  the  year  was  out. 

When  the  boat  came  in  Saturday  afternoon, 
Helen  and  Mitty  were  both  on  the  pier.  Mr. 
Saxton  was  one  of  the  first  to  step  off  the  plank, 
the  pockets  of  his  duster  tipping  over  with  pamph- 
lets and  papers.  But  for  some  inscrutable  reason 
he  was  not  inclined  to  proceed  at  once  to  the 
hotel.  He  kept  nervously  turning  back  when 
Mitty,  serene  and  stately,  led  the  way  forward, 
and  seemed  to  wish  to  linger  near  the  rapidly 
disgorging  steamer.  At  last,  having  put  the  two 
women  to  a  wonderful  deal  of  bewilderment  and 
some  vexation,  he  deliberately  stated  that  he  had 
left  something  on  the  boat,  and  asked  them  to 
wait  for  Mm  on  a  convenient  trunk  standing  near. 
.  5 


98  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

When  he  came  back  a  small  boy  was  by  his 
side,  and  behind  the  boy  —  Helen's  own  beloved 
pony,  Rufus. 

"  One  is  never  sure  of  finding  good  horses  in  a 
place  like  this,"  said  the  little  man,  his  nervous- 
ness quite  departed ;  "  and  Rufus  will  be  all  the 
better  for  being  ridden  again.  My  dear,  if  you 
like,  I  will  find  a  nag  of  some  sort,  and  we  will 
have  a  ride  after  dinner." 

And  this  was  the  man  who  knew  nothing  about 
girls ! 

On  Sunday  morning  there  was  a  good  sermon 
from  a  Presbyterian  clergyman  in  the  dancing- 
hall,  and  another  after  dinner,  in  ten  words,  from 
Mr.  Saxton  on  the  rocks.  By  the  early  boat 
Monday  morning  the  man  of  business  was  away. 

The  days  went  delightfully  now — Rufus  in  the 
morning,  the  rocks  in  the  afternoon.  There  was 
nothing  quite  like  riding  to  Helen.  On  her  pony's 
back  the  freedom  and  grace  denied  to  her  ordin- 
arily, were  hers.  She  was  like  other  people — 
strong,  free.  "  Putting  on  her  wings,"  she  used 
to  call  it  when  she  was  a  little  girl.  She  sat  her 
horse  like  a  queen,  was  perfectly  fearless,  and 
very  graceful.  The  big  Irish  boy  whom  Mr. 
Saxton  had  engaged  to  guard  her  in  her  rides, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  99 

was  generally  seen  rods  behind  her  on  his  am- 
bling nag,  while  she  went  dashing  over  the  rocky 
roads  or  along  the  beach,  as  near  as  possible  to 
the  waves.  Rufus  seemed  to  Ipve  the  water,  too, 
and  sometimes  would  step  into  it  cautiously  with 
his  fore  feet,  and  wait  for  the  bounding  waves, 
and  when  they  broke  in  their  faces,  would  snort 
and  shake  his  pretty  head,  while  his  mistress,  as 
gleeful  as  a  child,  would  laugh  and  stroke  his 
mane  till,  both  tired  of  the  sport,  they  would  flit 
off  again. 

"  Oh,  my  good  Rufus !"  Helen  would  say,  comr 
ing  back  flushed  and  pretty  from  a  long  morning 
ride,  and  stopping  to  lay  her  cheek  against  her 
favorite's  neck,  and  play  with  his  mane  a  little 
before  she  left  him  ;  "  to  think  that  you  will  never 
know  what  a  friend  you  are  to  me  !" 

Towards  the  end  of  the  week  Miss  Maria's 
pleasant  face  was  seen  again  at  the  table.  The 
places  opposite  Helen  and  Mitty  had  been  taken 
by  other  guests,  and  Helen  was  first  aware  of  the 
bright  little  lady,  down  a  long  vista  of  faces  at 
the  other  end  of  the  table.  With  her  were  two 
ladies,  the  expected  new  teachers  of  course.  They 
were  both  unmistakably  just  arrived  from  for- 
eign parts.  The  elder  was  a  little,  brisk  woman, 


100  M$S  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

with  small,  sharp  blue  eyes,  set  in  a  preternatu- 
ral expanse  of  forehead.  She  had  light  hair 
once,  but  the  little  of  it  that  remained  was  quite 
imperceptible  atJHelen's  point  of  distance,  and 
left  the  boundary  between  the  frontal  and  pa- 
rietals  entirely  an  imaginary  one.  Surmount- 
ing the  forehead  was  a  triangular  black  head- 
dress fastened  only  in  one  point,  and  flutter- 
ing with  every  breeze.  She  wore  a  black  dress 
of  a  peculiar,  loose-waisted  type,  and  had  black 
mits  on  her  small,  white  hands.  The  daughter 
was  much  taller  than  her  mother,  large-framed, 
with  a  broad,  round  German  face,  a  pink  com- 
plexion, and  heavy  coils  of  yellow  hair.  She  had 
a  "  learned  "  stoop  in  her  shoulders,  and  always 
appeared  in  a  very  light-blue  dress. 

The  ministerial  gentleman  was  also  of  the 
party.  He  sat  next  the  brisk,  little  elderly  lady, 
and,  either  he  was  very  attentive  to  her,  or  she 
was  very  attentive  to  him.  He  walked  off,  too, 
on  the  sands  sometimes  with  the  younger  lady 
in  the  light-blue  dress,  and  Helen  and  Rufus 
came  upon  the  two  in  the  woods  one  day,  engaged 
apparently  in  very  deep  discourse. 

Miss  Maria  was,  of  course,  too  much  occupied 
with  her  guests  to  have  much  to  say  to  Helen, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  IOi 

and,  indeed,  why  should  she  have  anything  to 
say  to  her  ?  Only  Helen,  by  her  great  liking  for 
the  little  lady,  seemed  to  herself  to  have  appro- 
priated something  of  her,  and  she  watched  her 
movements  with  an  interest  of  which  she  was 
sometimes  quite  ashamed.  There  was  a  passing 
word  or  two  in  the  halls  once  or  twice,  and  some- 
times when  Helen  would  flit  past  the  party  on 
the  beach,  Miss  Maria's  smiling  eyes  would  smile 
more  merrily,  and  she  would  hastily  doff  her  hat 
in  a  cavalier  style  that  was  eminently  bewitching. 
After  about  a  week  the  tall  gentleman  disappeared, 
and  in  a  few  days  a  fourth  lady  was  added  to  the 
party.  When  Helen  first  saw  this  lady,  she  sud- 
denly laid  down  her  fork  and  her  face  flushed. 

"  Mitty,  I've  seen  that  lady  before.  That  is  my 
mother's  friend — the  one  who  came  to  see  me 
after  I  had  had  that  fever,  and  we  were  just  start- 
ing for  the  mountains ;  and  my  guardian  was 
away,  and  she  didn't  stay  five  minutes.  Don't 
you  remember?  And  in  the  confusion  her  card 
was  lost,  and  I  never  could  remember  her  name." 

"  It  does  look  as  if  it  might  be  her,"  said  Mitty, 
"  but  I  disremember  about  those  gray  curls,  and 
seems  to  me  she  wore  spectacles." 

"  No,  she  didn't,"  said   Helen,  a  little   indig- 


102  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

nantly ;  "  and  she  had  those  same  curls,  and  such 
a  kind  mouth  ?  I  was  so  sorry  I  had  to  go  away 
and  not  see  more  of  her." 

Helen's  eyes  were  constantly  attracted  towards 
that  end  of  the  table  during  the  long  dinner. 
The  lady  looked  at  her,  too,  and  both  had  that 
consciousness  of  mutual  interest  which  is  apt  to 
be  mutually  embarrassing.  But  as  Helen  and 
Mitty  were  leaving  the  room,  the  lady  rose  and 
followed  them. 

"  I  am  sure  this  is  Miss  Roberts — the  child  of 
my  dear  friend  !  I  am  very  glad  to  meet  you 
again,  my  dear.  Let  me  speak  to  my  sister, 
Maria,  this  is  our  dear  Lucy's  daughter." 

Miss  Maria,  coming  up,  stood  perfectly  still  for 
an  instant.  Then  she  opened  her  arms  wide  and, 
gathering  Helen  into  them,  kissed  her  fervently 
on  each  cheek. 

"  I  knew  it  was  somebody  I  had  a  right  to  love. 
I  knew  it  all  the  time.  And  to  think  that  I  should 
have  lived  here  with  you  all  these  weeks  and  not 
had  more  of  you!" 

Helen  was  very  much  ashamed  of  herself.  She 
tried  to  say  something  but  couldn't.  She  tried  to 
look  pleased,  but  laughed  nervously  at  the  result. 
Finally,  she  gave  up  trying  to  do  anything,  and 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

let  the  two  or  three  tears  that  would  come,  come, 
and  brushed  them  away  brightly  with  her  little 
bit  of  a  dainty  cambric  handkerchief,  and  lifted 
her  face  and  kissed  both  the  ladies  with  a  pretty 
bashfulness,  that  would  have  won  their  hearts 
even  had  she  not  been  Lucy  Roberts'  child. 


'  A  ravelled  rainbow  overhead 
Sets  down  to  earth  its  varying  thread  : 
Love's  blue — joy's  gold — and,  fair  between, 
Hope's  shifting  light  of  emerald  green  ; 
With,  either  side,  in  deep  relief, 
A  crimson,  Pain — a  violet, Grief: 
And  be  thou  sure,  what  tint  soe'er 
The  broken  rays  beneath  may  wear, 
It  needs  them  all,  that,  broad  and  white, 
God's  love  may  weave  the  perfect  light ! 


CHAPTER    V. 

k 

OLD  Oxford  hill  was  glorified.  All  night 
long  spirits  of  the  air  had  wrought  in 
secret.  Gems  had  fallen  from  heaven,  and  deft 
and  quiet  fingers  had  festooned  them  from  branch 
to  branch  of  the  stately  old  trees.  Clusters  of 
pearls  had  formed  in  the  stiff,  out-spread  palms 
of  the  hemlocks,  and  a  diamond  tipped  every  tiny 
uplifted  spire.  The  few  tall  grasses  left  over  and 
forgotten  by  the  summer,  hung  their  pretty  heads 
tinkling  with  jewels.  Along  the  garden  paths, 
and  close  under  the  fences  among  the  tangles  of 
broken  vines  and  flower-stalks,  there  were  mar- 
vels of  lace  and  diamonds.  As  you  turned  the 
head,  delicate  hues  of  emerald  and  ruby  flashed 
from  every  side. 

Great  Gothic  elm  arches  reared  by  the  strength 
of  many  a  patient  summer,  stood  this  morning  in 
pure  crystal,  and  the  eye  was  lost  among  their 
glittering  mazes.  Beneath  them  the  wide  earth 
was  floored  with  silver,  sprinkled  with  diamond 

(107) 


I08  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

dust.  It  stretched  away  sparkling  to  the  west, 
where  Rockshire  hills  stood  out  in  sunny  outline, 
and  Helvellyn,  with  its  "far  blue  eye,"  looked 
calmly  on. 

Into  all  this  glory,  from  the  little  depot  under 
the  hill,  around  the  corner  where  the  old  "  head- 
quarters "  house  stood,  past  the  new  blocks  of 
red  brick  buildings,  up,  and  still  up,  into  the  pure 
and  breezy  region  of  the  old  High  Street,  toiled 
the  friendly  form  of  the  Oxford  coach. 

Helen  Roberts  was  looking  out  of  its  windows. 
As  she  moved  slowly  along  under  the  silver  arch- 
es, she  felt  like  a  queen.  People  had  come  out  of 
their  houses  to  see  the  pageant.  The  doors  were 
open  as  in  summer,  giving  glimpses  of  broad, 
pleasant,  old-fashioned  halls,  and  smiling  heads 
were  thrust  out  of  windows.  Little  girls  ran 
about  in  red  and  blue  hoods.  Groups  of  gentle- 
men stood  on  the  sidewalk,  all  looking  up. 
Housekeepers,  with  their  morning  aprons  on, 
and  breakfast  shawls  over  their  heads,  chatted 
from  door-step  to  door-step  in  neighborly  wise. 
Every  body  had  forgotten  care  for  a  moment. 

Miss  Prescott's  broad,  roomy,  white-painted 
house  looked  little,  yellow  and  old  in  tfce  midst 
of  all  the  glory.  But  Helen  came  up  the  long 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  109 

path,  with  the  light  of  expectation  on  her  coun- 
tenance, and,  admitted  by  the  freckly  Irish  girl 
to  the  green  and  walnut  parlor,  (all  boarding- 
school  parlors  are  green  and  walnut,)  sat  down 
and  cast  her  dazzled  eyes  about  her.  It  was  a 
comfortable,  well-used  room,  one  felt  rather  than 
saw  at  once,  but,  like  every  thing  else,  placed  at 
very  much  of  a  disadvantage  by  the  unwonted 
magnificence  without.  The  sunshine,  which 
seemed  ten-fold  sunshine,  fell  with  a  blank  glare 
on  the  green  carpet,  and  the  French  clock  on  the 
mantel  shone  beneath  its  glass  case  with  a  pecu- 
liarly tawdry  glitter.  There  were  old-fashioned 
girandoles  on  the  mantel,  and  their  pendants,  or 
those  of  them  that  chanced  to  lie  in  the  ray  of 
the  morning  sunbeams,  sympathizing  with  the 
general  brightness,  sent  faint  but  merry  little 
rainbows  glancing  about  the  room.  Even  the 
stove,  which  stepped  out  from  the  chimney  with 
a  bold  and  ugly  front,  seemed  disposed  not  to 
make  too  decided  a  resistance,  but  contented 
itself  with  a  good-natured  struggle,  (where  the 
sunshine  met  it,)  to  prove  that  subtle  and  inti- 
mate relation  that,  after  all,  exists  between  black 
and  white. 

The   piano,   across   the   corner   of  the   room, 


1 1 o  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

was  silent,  but  the  position  of  the  chairs  near 
it,  and  the  music  scattered  over  its  broad  sur- 
face, told  of  recent  use.  Behind  the  piano  a  door 
was  open  into  a  smaller  room  where  there  were 
book-cases  and  a  harp,  and,  pleasant  to  see  in  the 
prevailing  dazzle,  a  dark-leaved  ivy  treading  its 
way  among  the  picture-cords  across  the  wall. 

Helen  noticed  all  these  things  with  an  inward 
satisfaction  that  crept  up  more  and  more  into  her 
face.  Things  had  come  about  just  as  she  had 
wished 'ever  since  that  first  afternoon  with  her 
mother's  two  friends  at  the  sea-side.  They  had 
come  about,  moreover,  in  that  pleasantest  of 
ways,  the  apparently  perfectly  natural  develop- 
ment of  circumstances.  Indeed,  what  should  she 
have  done,  if  she  hadn't  done  this — uncle  and 
aunt  still  away,  and  her  guardian  having  already 
had  more  than  his  six  months'  share  of  her  ?  She 
felt  this  morning  as  if  it  had  been  ordained  from 
her  earliest  days,  and  as  if  she  had  known  it  all 
the  time  and  been  getting  ready  for  it,  that  she 
was  to  come  at  this  particular  second  term  of  this 
particular  winter  as  a  "parlor-boarder"  to  Miss 
Prescott's  seminary,  in  Oxford.  It  was  another 
comfortable  feature  of  this  pleasant  "  coming 
about"  of  things,  that  it  was  not  until  this  par- 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  j  i  i 

ticular  second  term  that  Miss  Prescott  could 
make  a  place  for  her,  and  thereby  that  growing 
feeling  of  grateful  duty  to  her  guardian  which 
made  her  glad  that  she  could  be  with  him  a  little 
longer,  and  try  to  put  something  pleasant  into  - 
his  monotonous  days,  was  fully  met.  "  The 
blessed  little  man  has  had  the  satisfaction  of  put- 
ting me  through  a  course  of  'William  Morril,'  and 
given  me  bracelets  enough  to  make  him  happy 
for  a  year,  and  made  enough  of  his  evenings  mer- 
rily miserable,  by  giving  girls'  tea-parties  on  my 
account,  and  now  I  don't  doubt  he's  thankful  to 
go  back  to  his  quiet  bachelorhood,"  thought  the 
young  lady,  that  morning,  as  she  looked  back 
from  the  car  window  to  catch  his  last  bow  and 
see  him  start  off  for  the  docks. 

Only  one  thing  would  have  made  the  winter 
programme  pleasanter.  She  would  have  been 
glad  to  have  Lily  and  Dora  with  her  at  Ox- 
ford. 

"  No  home  for  us  again  this  winter,"  Lily  had 
written  in  October,  "  and  I  declare  I  think  it's 
shabby.  As  I  told  you,  father  and  mother  have 
at  last  accomplished  the  object  of  their  trip,  and 
Marie  is  going  to  be  married.  Well,  they  did 
think,  for  a  moment,  of  coming  home,  but  that 


112  MISS  ROBERTS' FORTUNE. 

disagreeable  creature,  the  bridegroom,  must 
needs*  live  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,  or  have  his 
business  there,  and  he  and  Marie  have  persuaded 
father  and  mother  to  go  out  there  with  them  and 
istay  all  winter.  They  promise  solemnly  to  be 
home  in  June,  and  meanwhile,  mother  has  given 
me  carte  blanche  to  have  as  good  a  time  as  I  can 
here.  I'm  going  into  company  with  Cousin 
Belle,  (who  is  twenty-three,  and  begins  to  look 
faded,)  and  shall  take  French  and  music  twice  a 
week.  Dora  has  begun  to  go  to  school  here. 
She  pines  for  you.  I  always  wondered  you  took 
to  her  so.  She  is  growing  wild  every  day,  and 
says  the  queerest  things.  What  are  you  going 
to  do,  my  dear?  Dig  away  at  that  everlasting 
German,  I  suppose,  and  very  likely  take  up  Sans- 
crit, and  the  dear  knows  what  else.  Do  let  a 
body  hear." 

Helen  waited  in  the  sunny  parlor  as  long  as  we 
have  kept  our  reader  waiting,  before  any  body 
appeared  to  welcome  her.  She  sat  by  the  win- 
dow, looking  up  into  the  wonderful  arches,  and 
when  she  began  to  be  a  little  impatient,  beating 
the  first  strain  of  her  new  sonata  with  her  little 
brown-gloved  hand  upon  the  piano,  the  house 
was  very  still.  The  usual  boarding-scho  1  jingle 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  \  \  3 

of  many  pianos,  and  hum  of  many  voices,  was 
wanting.  Occasionally  there  was  an  opening  or 
shutting  of  a  door,  and  once  the  slow  rustle  of  a 
dress  across  the  hall  oil-cloth,  and,  after  a  pause, 
the  low  humming  of  a  song,  apparently  in  the 
room  with  the  harp  and  the  ivy.  Presently 
there  was  a  nearer  rustle,  and  a  tall,  fair  girl 
stood  in  the  door.  It  was  Ida,  of  that  brief  last 
summer's  acquaintance.  She  was  paler  than 
then,  and  seemed  slighter  and  fairer-haired. 

Both  the  girls'  faces  took  on  a  look  of  pleased 
surprise,  and  they  met  as  old  friends.  "  If  I  had 
only  known  —  how  long  have  you  been  here  ? 
They  have  all  gone  up  the  hill  to  see  the  trees. 
Miss  Maria  wouldn't  let  me  go.  She  says  the 
air  is  very  sharp." 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  great  chattering 
of  voices  and  stamping  of  feet,  and  up  the  long 
path  and  in  at  the  door,  came  the  troop  of  girls 
and  teachers.  Miss  Maria,  seeing  the  trunk, 
rushed  in  in  her  own  breezy  way. 

"  I  was  afraid  you  would  come  while  we  were 
gone,  but  I  told  that  stupid  Bridget — did  n't  she 
tell  you  ?  I  wanted  you  to  drive  up  the  street. 
It  was  magnificent.  Ida,  dear  —  one  of  these 
days !— " 


H4  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Miss  Prescott,  tall,  and  just  a  trifle  prim, 
stood  for  a  moment  in  the  hall  among  her  girls. 
A  head-dress  of  soft,  white  wool  fell  lightly  from 
her  gray  curls,  her  eyes  were  bright ;  the  winter 
air  had  given  her  cheeks  an  unusual  touch  of 
rose-color,  and  her  dear,  demure  little  mouth 

opened   and   spake   these  words :    "  The   young 

i 
ladies  will  go  to  their  rooms,  and  thoroughly 

warm  and  dry  themselves.  At  the  end  of  fifteen 
minutes  the  bell  will  ring  and  recitations  will  be 
resumed.  My  dear,  I  am  most  glad  to  see  you. 
You  have  come  at  an  extraordinary  time.  We 
will  call  it  a  good  omen." 

Before  the  little  bell  rang  in  the  hall,  and  the 
six  well-worn  pianos  had  begun  to  jingle,  the 
new  pupil  was  in  her  room  up-stairs,  brushing  out 
her  pretty  brown  hair.  Miss  Maria  meanwhile 
shook  out  the  dresses  and  hung  them  up  in 
Helen's  half  of  the  closet. 

"  Oh,  no,  my  dear,  I've  nothing  else  to  do.  / 
have  no  classes.  I'm  only  the  house-keeper.  I 
have  n't  a  faculty  in  the  world  that  I'm  aware  of, 
except  to  keep  accounts  and  see  that  the  din- 
ner is  ready  in  time,  and  that  sort  of  thing. 
Deborah  do'es  insist  on  my  having  a  Bible-class, 
just  to  keep  up  a  proper  respect,  you  know,  and 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  j  j  5 

I  have  a  few  little  stupidities  in  the  Latin  gram- 
mar, but  I'm  no  school  ma'am — no,  my  dear — 
and  never  shall  be.  Shall  I  put  the  band-box 
on  the  top  shelf?  I  wish  there  was  more  room 
for  you.  I  was  sorry  not  to  give  you  a  room  by 
yourself,  but  we  are  so  full,  and  Miss  Haas  has 
such  a  remarkable  antipathy  to  rooming  with 
her  mother.  But  she  is  a  good  creature,  and  as 
comfortable  a  room-mate,  I  should  think,  as  one 
could  have.  Between  her  grand  piano  and  the 
professor  she's  out  of  her  room  a  great  deal,  and 
when  she  is  in  it  she  writes  so  much  that  she  is 
generally  oblivious  to  everything." 

Presently,  at  another  tinkling  of  the  little  bell, 
and  a  sudden  silence  of  all  the  pianos,  Miss 
Haas  herself  walked  in.  Helen  had  made  very 
little  progress  in  her  acquaintance  with  this  lady 
last  summer.  She  noticed  now,  with  a  new  in- 
terest, the  tall,  stooping  form,  the  light  hair 
drawn  back  from  a  broad  and  somewhat  blank 
countenance,  and  the  large  eyes  of  pale,  unheav- 
enly  blue. 

Miss  Haas  wore,  as  usual,  a  light  -  blue  dress. 
Under  her  arm  she  carried  two  large  books,  and 
in  her  left  hand  a  writing  tablet,  with  a  half-writ- 
ten sheet  of  paper  on  it.  Between  her  teeth  she 


1 1 6  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

held  a  pen,  which  she  took  out  and  held  be- 
tween her  fingers  as  she  kissed  her  future  room- 
mate. 

Just  before  dinner,  in  the  sunny  parlor  again, 
Helen  received  a  kiss  of  recognition  and  wel- 
come from  the  brisk,  sharp-eyed  little  Mrs.  Haas, 
and  was  formally  introduced  to  a  tall,  grave  gen- 
tleman, Professor  Wright,  by  name  and  title,  and 
a  bewildering  crowd  of  girls.  The  girls  were 
pretty  and  smiling,  and  the  professor  said  some- 
thing in  a  pleasant  voice  about  her  coming  at  a 
wonderfully  beautiful  time.  (There  was  a  sound 
of  dripping  eaves  and  fallen  icicles  now,  and  the 
vision  had  faded.)  Then  Miss  Maria,  who  had  a 
way  of  always  treating  new  pupils  as  guests, 
came  up  to  show  the  way  to  the  dining-room, 
and  sitting  down  at  the  long  table,  Helen  was 
conscious  of  a  delightful  welcome  and  at-home 
feeling,  such  as  she  had  never  had  anywhere 
before. 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  professor?"  said 
Ida,  at  her  right  side.  "  Is  n't  he  a  poky  old  fel- 
low ?  But  he's  real  nice.  I  think  he's  too  nice 
for  Miss  Haas.  You  know  they're  engaged. 
They  met  in  Germany.  He  boarded  with  them 
or  something.  Mrs.  Haas  tells  any  number  of 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  ny 

romantic  tales  about  it.  She  says  they're  very 
fond  of  one  another." 

Helen  glanced  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table. 
The  wise  man  sat  with  a  kindly  look  upon  his 
face,  while  Miss  Haas,  with  uplifted  fork  and  an- 
imated tone,  volubly  discoursed  on  some  deep 
theme. 

"  As  I  informed  your  guardian,  my  dear,"  said 
Miss  Prescott,  on  Helen's  other  side,  "  we  have 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  prevail  on  Mr.  Wright, 
lately  returned  from  Halle  and  appointed  pro- 
fessor of  homiletics  in  our  university,  to  give 
the  young  ladies  a  weekly  Bible-lesson,  and  to 
sit  at  our  table  and  be  our  chaplain  for  the  year. 
He  is  one  of  our  rarest  men  and  deepest  thinkers. 
I  consider  it  a  great  privilege  to  have  the  bene- 
fit of  his  instruction  on  the  Thursday  evenings, 
and  have  myself  joined  the  Bible-class  as  a  pupil." 

After  dinner,  by  the  great  hall  stove,  some  of 
the  girls  essayed  acquaintance  with  the  new 
pupil.  The  professor  took  a  drab  felt  hat  from 
the  rack,  threw  over  his  shoulders  a  shawl  of 
that  yellow-greenish  gray  description,  known  to 
theological  institutions,  and,  pursued  to  the  very 
door-step  by  Mrs.  and  Miss  Haas,  bowed  himself 
out  of  the  house. 


1 1 8  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

The  grand  piano  began  to  groan  thereupon 
under  Miss  Haas'  powerful  hand.  Miss  Prescott 
walked  gently  about  the  parlors  rustling  her 
fresh  newspaper,  and  stopping  to  throw  her  hya- 
cinths to  the  sun,  and  there  was  a  general  flitting 
about  of  girls  till  the  bell  rang  for  study  hour. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  what  a  parlor  boarder 
is,"  said  Miss  Maria,  coming  up  at  that  period. 
"  My  understanding  of  her  duties  is,  that  she 
shall  make  herself  very  much  at  home,  and  have 
as  good  a  time  as  possible." 

"  I  will  take  care  of  that  young  lady  now,"  in- 
terrupted the  elder  sister's  gentle  voice.  "  Come 
* 

into  my  room,  my  dear,  and  we  will  talk  over 
matters  and  plan  our  campaign." 

The  dear,  old  room,  with  its  ugly,  large-figured 
carpet  turned  on  the  wrong  side,  its  little  white 
bed  in  the  corner,  its  square  table  covered  with 
school-books  and  newspapers,  the  stiff,  black 
arm  -  chair  near  it,  and  the  low,  carpeted  otto- 
man, from  that  day  Helen's  own  particular  place. 

Miss  Prescott  talked  placidly  away,  mingling 
a  little  mild  gossip  with  the  matters  in  hand,  and 
things  seemed  to  settle  themselves  as  simply  as 
possible.  "  If  you  wish  to  brush  up  your  French, 
my  dear,  you  cannot  do  better  than  avail  your- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

self  of  Mrs.  Haas,  Tuesday  and  Friday  after- 
noons. The  young  ladies  report  them  as  very 
lively  and  agreeable.  Mrs.  Haas  is  a  perfect  mis- 
tress of  the  language,  and  I  think  her  mind  bet- 
ter suited  to  it  than  to  the  German,  though  she 
is  equally  familiar  with  that. 

"  Perhaps  Maria  has  told  you  something  of 
this  lady's  history.  It  is  a  sad  one  to  me,  be- 
ginning with  a  romance,  ending  in  the  common 
tale  of  poverty  and  hard  work. 

"  We  were  school-mates  together  in  this  very 
town  many  years  ago.  One  morning,  (it  was 
near  the  close  of  the  last  term,  I  remember,) 
every  one  was  startled  by  the  announcement  that 
Theodosia  Graves  had  eloped  with  our  German 
music  teacher.  It  appeared  that  there  had  been 
an  attachment  between  them  for  some  time,  and, 
failing  to  obtain  her  father's  consent  to  the  mar- 
riage, she  had  gone  with  her  lover  to  his  native 
land. 

"  Since  that  time  I  have  known  nothing  of  my 
old  school-mate,  till  quite  recently  Professor 
Wright  met  her  and  her  daughter  in  Halle,  and 
mentioned  them  to  me  on  his  return.  Shortly 
after  I  received  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Haas  stating 
her  desire  to  return  to  this  country,  and  mention- 


120  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

• 

ing  the  peculiar  qualifications  of  herself  and  her 
daughter  for  teaching  in  a  school  like  ours. 
These  things  were  confirmed  very  heartily  by 
Professor  Wright,  and  have  certainly  been  con- 
firmed by  my  experience.  Mrs.  Haas  says  little 
of  the  years  that  she  has  passed  abroad,  but  I 
gather  that  she  soon  discovered  her  husband's 
inability  to  support  her,  and  that  she  has  seen 
some  hard  times.  Miss  Haas  is  very  solidly  edu- 
cated. She  is  deeply  read  in  metaphysics,  and, 
in  fact,  in  almost  everything.  She  is  very  fluent 
in  the  languages,  and  has  attained  to  great  pro- 
ficiency in  music.  As  you  know,  she  is  our 
teacher  in  German  ;  but  as  I  find  you  are  so  far 
advanced,  and  there  are  already  so  many  classes, 
I  have  bespoke  for  you  a  share  of  Professor 
Wright's  attention.  He  reads' with  Miss  Haas 
daily.  They  are  now  reading  some  of  Lessing's 
criticisms  on  art.  The  professor  has  a  fine  ana- 
lytic mind,  and  I  am  sure  will  make  the  study  in 
every  way  delightful." 

"  But  I  shall  be  dreadfully  afraid  of  him  and 
of  Miss  Haas,  too." 

"  Oh,  no,  my  dear ;  I  am  sure  you  need  not  be. 
There  is  not  a  simpler  or  kinder  man  in  the 
world,  and  Miss  Haas  is  really  good-hearted." 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  I2I 

Helen  had  misgivings,  nevertheless,  and  was 
sure  the  lovers  would  far  rather  read  by  them- 
selves. She  looked  up  to  say  something  of  the 
kind,  but  Miss  Prescott  was  clearly  oblivious  of 
any  rarer  bliss  than  that  of  plucking  up  German 
roots  in  company  with  an  "  analytic  mind." 
Her  bright  eyes  only  gleamed  with  the  thought 
of  the  philosophic  delights  in  store  for  the  new 
pupil. 

"  I  extremely  regret  that  I  have  not  been  able 
to  join  the  circle  myself,"  she  said,  with  a  gentle 
sigh  ;  "  but  other  duties  have  been  too  press- 
ing." 

"And  I  must  study  something  with  you,  Miss 
Prescott." 

"  Yes,  my  dear ;  I  think  you  said  you  have  not 
attended  to  Butler." 

"  So  I  have  four  studies,"  said  Helen,  at  last, 
bringing  to  an  end  the  business  proceedings  of 
the  session,  and  viewing  with  satisfaction  the 
pencilled  "  order  of  exercises"  in  her  hand. 

"And  are  not  a  parlor  boarder  after  all,"  added 
Miss  Maria,  from  her  writing-table  by  the  win- 
dow. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  Helen.  "  I  think  my 
guardian  only  said  that  because  he  was  a  little 


122  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

ashamed  to  send  such  an  old  young  lady  to 
school." 

This  was  only  the  beginning  of  the  "  times"  in 
Miss  Prescott's  room.  Miss  Maria  was  always 
inveigling  Helen  in  on  the  most  engaging  and 
ingenious  little  invitations ;  and  she  had  not  been 
two  weeks  at  school  before  she  contracted  a  habit 
of  stepping  across  the  hall  after  the  last  bell  rang 
for  a  good  -  night  talk,  which  was  not  always  a 
short  one. 

Miss  Prescott  and  Miss  Maria  spoke  often  of 
her  mother  in  a  familiar,  natural  way,  which 
made  her  seem  nearer  than  she  had  ever  seemed 
before. 

Helen  knew  her  mother  chiefly  by  the  portrait 
that  had  always  hung  in  her  room  at  Uncle 
Roger's.  That  had  bent  over  her  little  bed  in  her 
many  childish  illnesses  ;  and  she  had  looked  up 
to  it  as  to  some  kind  angel  with  sweet  eyes  and 
a  white,  pure  forehead.  Nobody  had  ever  told 
her  that  her  eyes  were  just  like  those.  Indeed, 
they  had  seldom  spoken  to  her  of  her  mother  at 
all.  Uncle  Roger  and  Aunt  Maria  were  willing 
enough  to  answer  a  question,  but  the  reserved 
child  seldom  asked  one.  Once,  when  she  had 
been  very  naughty  and  deceived  him,  her  guar- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE:  123 

dian  had  spoken  to  her  of  her  mother.  Helen 
never  forgot  the  solemn  tone  of  his  voice,  and 
the  feeling  of  his  hand  on  her  head  as  he  spo^e 
the  sacred  word.  The  poor  little  man  had  not 
known  of  all  her  naughtiness,  and,  if  he  had, 
would  have  thought  himself  quite  incapable  of 
managing  them ;  but  this  time  his  delicate  in- 
stinct led  him  aright,  and  probably  to  this  one 
little  word  in  season,  more  than  to  anything  else 
that  came  to  her  in  her  childhood,  Helen  owed 
that  calmness  and  honesty  of  mind  that  were 
characteristic  of  her. 

But  now  it  was  very  sweet  to  hear  her  mother 
familiarly  spoken  of;  to  know  of  her  little  ways 
and  her  sayings  and  doings. 

"And  my  father,  Miss  Prescott — nobody  ever 
tells  me  anything  about  him,"  she  said  one  day. 

"  I  did  not  know  him  wellr  dear.  He  was  a 
good  man,  and  preached  good  sermons.  It  was 
a  sudden  marriage — a  surprise  to  us  all.  He  was 
older  and  graver  much  than  your  mother ;  and 
we  had  always  thought  of  another  (of  Edward 
Saxton)  as  the  man  who  would  win  her  love.  I 
do  not  know.  The  Lord  reigns.  These  things, 
as  well  as  those  we  call  greater,  are  in  His  hands. 
Your  mother  seemed  to  fade  a  little,  like  a  flower 


124  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

taken  out  of  its  natural  climate ;  but  she  was  a 
good  wife,  and  your  father  loved  her  tenderly. 
Mr.  Saxton  was  abroad  during  the  first  year  of 
her  marriage.  When  he  came  home,  the  three 
were  the  best  of  friends." 

In  Helen's  own  room,  though  she  found  so 
much  to  interest  and  amuse  her  that  she  was  dis- 
posed to  take  an  eminently  cheerful  view  of 
things,  there  were,  nevertheless,  some  drawbacks 
to  perfect  peace.  One  stumbled  over  Miss  Haas' 
dictionaries  everywhere,  and  was  liable  to  show- 
ers of  loose  papers  and  sheets  of  music  whenever 
the  door  was  opened,  and  a  draught  thereby 
created.  (Miss  Haas,  among  her  many  theories, 
held  the  theory  of  ventilation,  but  like  some 
other  peop.le,  with  some  other  theories,  she  had 
learned  as  yet  only  that  half  of  the  doctrine 
which  results  in  general  discomfort.) 

On  the  side  of  the  room  assigned  to  her,  Helen 
had  tacked  up  her  brackets,  hung  her  little  pic- 
tures, and  set  out  a  goodly  array  of  those  fa- 
miliar trifles  that  make  any  square  yard  of  ten- 
ement one's  own. 

The  other  side,  from  the  book-shelves  to  the 
window,  was  a  composite  of  volumes  of  meta- 
physics (very  likely  up-side  down),  historical 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  i2$ 

charts,  "studies"  in  crayon  heads  unfinished, 
specimen  bugs  and  butterflies,  and  bits  of  news- 
paper paragraphs  pinned  to  the  wall.  Under  the 
table  in  the  corner,  there  was  a  mysterious  non- 
descript object  covered  with  a  brown  cloth,  and 
a  pail  as  mysterious  covered  with  the  same. 

Very  early  one  morning,  when  Helen  had 
been  a  few  weeks  at  school,  she  was  wakened  by 
peculiar  noises  in  the  room.  "  Dear  me,"  she  said, 
turning  over  in  bed,  with  an  inward  groan,  "if 
that  woman  does  n't  sculp  !  What  does  n't  she 
do?" 

Miss  Haas  stood  at  the  round  table,  the  pail 
before  her,  and  the  mysterious  object  unveiled 
discovered  itself  to  be  a  half-formed  plaster  Clyte. 
With  her  big  blue  eyes  fixed  on  the  model  across 
the  room,  the  artist  pinched  and  twisted  into  ex- 
istence a  somewhat  swollen  nose.  "  I  hope  I 
shall  not  disturb  you,  dear.  I  am  finishing  this 
Clyte  for  the  mother's  birthday.  Next,  do  you 
know,  if  you  will  permit,  I  wish  to  do  you.  I 
have  never  attempted  a  human  model.  You 
must  do  your  hair  in  that  low  coil  as  you  do  at 
night.  Your  head  and  neck  are  quite  classic  so. 
You  will  be  an  excellent  study." 

It  was  very  ungrateful,  she  knew,  besides  being 


126  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

very  irreverent,  but  Helen  smothered  an  agon- 
izing- fit  of  laughter  under  the  sheets,  and  for  the 
next  half  hour  pretended  to  be  asleep. 

The  learned  lady  was  very  kind  to  her  "  little 
room-mate,"  as  she  called  Helen.  She  kissed 
her  fervently  night  and  morning,  and  sometimes 
told  her  long  tales  of  Germany,  of  the  glorious 
Rhein-land,  where  she  had  passed  her  school- 
days, and  occasionally  of  excursions  and  adven- 
tures in  later  days  with  the  "  good  professor." 

As  Miss  Maria  had  said,  Miss  Haas  wrote  a 
great  deal.  The  little  writing  tablet  and  foun- 
tain pen  went  with  her  everywhere.  As  she 
walked  about  the  halls  from  one  recitation  room 
to  another  she  jotted  down  her  fine  thoughts, 
and  when  she  went  on  her  nightly  rounds  to  see 
that  the  girls  were  safe  in  bed,  the  vision  of  "  a 
lady  with  a  lamp"  and  a  pen  between  her  teeth, 
mingled  with  their  first  light  dreams.  The  thick 
documents  which  were  the  result  of  this  cease- 
less scribbling, were  folded,  enveloped,  and  handed 
to  Professor  Wright  every  few  days,  with  a  great 
show  of  secrecy.  Helen  supposed  them  to  be 
profound  treatises  on  some  great  theme.  She 
found  afterwards  that  they  were,  on  a  very  great 
theme,  indeed 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  T  2  7 

Notwithstanding  her  constant  employment, 
Miss  Haas  was  always  ready  to  talk.  She  would 
lift  her  eyes,  hold  her  pen  aloft,  and  fall  into  dis- 
course at  any  moment.  She  was  very  kind  about 
answering  questions,  and  was  as  infallible  as  her 
dictionaries.  How  much  she  did  know !  It 
was  perfectly  discouraging.  She  had  an  insa- 
tiate appetite  for  facts,  and  crammed  herself  with 
them  constantly.  But  in  the  composition  of  her 
mind  Helen  sometimes  ventured  to  think,  one 
or  two  little  elements  such  as  humor,  and  imagi- 
nation, and  original  thought,  seemed  to  have 
been  left  out.  She  liked  flowers  because  they 
were  botany,  and  was  fond  of  poetry  because  it 
was  literature.  She  had  a  real  liking  for  Helen, 
perhaps  chiefly  founded  on  respect  for  her  as  a 
person  of  good  parts,  and  her  most  advanced 
music  pupil,  and  was  fond  of  drawing  her  out 
on  all  occasions,  and  developing  her  opinions  on 
various  themes.  It  was  very  improving,  doubt- 
less, but  a  little  bit  tiresome,  dwelling  on  these 
heights  all  the  time. 

"  What  is  your  favorite  poem,  Lenchen  ?"  she 
said  to  Helen,  one  Saturday  morning,  looking 
up  from  her  drawing. 

"  '  The  owl  and  the  pussy-cat/  Miss  Haas,"  said 


I28  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Helen,  solemnly.  She  was  folding  ribbons  at 
her  drawer,  and  had  been  singing  a  little  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  What  is  that?     I  do  not  know  it." 

"  'The  owl  and  pussy-cat  went  to  sea 
In  a  beautiful  pea-green  boat ' 

said  or  sung  the  little  lady,  whose  eyes  were  un- 
usually sunny  this  morning,  "  don't  you  know 
that,  Miss  Haas?" 

"  I  never  heard  it.  Is  it  by  Mr.  Wordsworth  ? 
Say  it  to  me,  my  dear." 

Helen  folded  her  hands  before  her  like  a  child, 
and  with  a  serious  air  went  through  the  whole 
of  the  delicious  nonsense,  to  the  "runcible 
spoon,"  and  "  the  land  where  the  bong-tree 
grows." 

Miss  Haas,  with  wide-open,  credulous  blue 
eyes,  looked  on.  Toward  the  last,  she  ran  her 
hand  through  her  hair  in  a  bewildered  manner. 
"Runcible  —  runcible  —  what  is  that?"  she  ex- 
claimed, diving  for  a  dictionary.  "  I  thought  I 
knew  English  well,  but  I  never  met  with  that 
word.  Ah  ! — no ! — I  do  not  find  it — I  must  ask 
the  professor." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Haas,  please  don't.     What  will  he 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  j  29 

think  ?  Do  forgive  me — I'm  a  nonsensical  girl 
— it  does  n't  mean  anything — ." 

Miss  Haas'  eyes  opened  wider.  It  took  a  deal 
of  pleading  and  explaining,  but  Helen  finally 
carried  her  point,  and  resolved,  with  all  her 
strength,  to  be  as  sedate  as  Minerva  herself 
henceforth. 

Possibly  under  the  inspiriting  example  of  the 
writing-tablet  and  the  fountain  pen,  the  old  pad- 
locked book  came  into  more  frequent  use  than  it 
had  seen  for  some  months.  There  went  into  it 
at  first  abstracts  of  the  Bible-lessons,  choice  sen- 
timents from  Lessing  carefully  translated,  occa- 
sionally short  sentences  in  Professor  Wright's 
simple,  telling  words ;  then  sometimes  some 
sweet  old  hymn  which  Miss  Prescott  had  read 
in  her  room  late  at  night ;  sometimes  a  few  lines 
of  a  madrigal  or  four-part  song,  that  they  had 
sung  (Miss  Haas,  Professor  Wright,  Miss  Maria, 
and  Helen),  after  tea  in  the  parlor ;  sometimes 
"  original  reflections,"  a  bit  of  a  sigh  in  visible 
black  and  white,  or  a  comical  thought  that  there 
would  be  no  fun  in  telling  Miss  Haas.  It  was  a 
medley,  as  it  had  always  been,  and  thus  a  mirror 
of  the  girl's  life. 

On   one   page   appeared   "The   School -girl's 
6* 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Psalm  of  Life,"  over  which  the  foolish  maiden 
had  wasted  two  precious  Saturday  morning 
hours.  This  was  designed  for  the  poet's  corner 
of  the  new  newspaper  the  girls  were  starting, 
was  to  be  strictly  anonymous,  and  was  concocted 

I 

in  obedience  to  the  demand  that  it  must  be 
"  something  funny."  Next,  with  a  whole  blank 
leaf  turned  over  between  them,  that  the  two 
might  never  look  in  one  another's  faces,  and 
with  a  bunch  of  Miss  Maria's  fragrant  hot-bed 
violets  pressed  for  a  heading,  came  this  extract 
from  one  of  Miss  Prescott's  old  authors. 

"  If  thou  wilt  be  well  with  God,  and  have  grace 
to  rule  thy  life,  and  come  to  the  joy  of  love, 
this  name  Jesus,  fasten  it  so  fast  in  thy  heart  that 
it  never  come  out  of  thy  thought.  And  when 
thou  speakest  to  Him,  and  sayest '  Jesu'  through 
custom,  it  shall  be  in  thine  ear  joy,  and  in  thy 
mouth  honey,  and  in  thy  heart  melody :  for 
thou  shalt  think  it  joy  to  hear  the  name  of  Jesus 
be  named,  sweetness  to  speak  it,  mirth  and  song 
to  think  on  it. 

"  If  thou  think  of  Jesus  continually  and  hold  it 
stably,  it  purgeth  thy  sin,  it  kindleth  thine  heart, 
it  clarifieth  thy  soul,  it  removeth  anger,  it  doeth 
away  slowness,  it  endeth  in  love  fulfilled  of  char- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  131 

ity,  it  chaseth  the  devil,  it  putteth  out  dread,  it 
openeth  heaven,  it  maketh  contemplative  men 
have  in  mind  oft  Jesus,  and  all  vices  and  phan- 
toms it  putteth  from  the  heart. 

"  If  thou  do  after  this  love,  thou  need'st 
not  many  books.  Hold  love  in  heart  and  in 
work,  and  thou  shalt  have  all  that  we  may  say  or 
write  ;  for  the  fullness  of  the  law  is  charity  ;  on 
that  hangeth  all." 

These  last  words  Helen  learned  by  heart,  and 
night  after  night  said  them  softly  to  herself,  be- 
fore she  went  to  sleep.  A  few  pages  further  on 
came  something  more  of  the  diary  order. 

"  Professor  Wright  says  he  believes  it  is  possi- 
ble for  men  and  women  in  this  world  to  be  har- 
monious, noble,  beautiful.  It  costs  some  trouble. 
It  is  a  great  deal  easier  to  fall  back  on  the  fact  of 
human  incompleteness,  and  excuse  ourselves. 
But  it  is  worth  all  the  trouble  it  costs.  And  we 
are  called  to  it,  too,  he  said.  I  don't  know  ex- 
actly how  we  happened  to  get  on  to  this  from 
Lessing.  I  think  it  was  something  about  those 
pure,  stately,  noble  Greek  statues. 

"  I  wanted  to  hear  more,  but  it  was  high  time 
that  I  should  take  myself  out  of  the  way  and  give 
the  learned  lovers  a  little  bit  of  time  together. 


j  3  2  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

It  seems  to  me  such  a  forlorn  courtship — making 
love  in  syllogisms,  and  having  all  their  tender 
passages  flavored  with  some  ology.  They  never 
have  any  time  to  themselves,  except  these  min- 
utes before  and  after  the  Lessing  reading,  and 
the  occasions  (beautiful  and  rare)  when  Mrs.  Haas 
succeeds  in  dragging  the  professor  into  her 
sitting-room,  after  dinner,  and  then  mounts  the 
stairs  with  a  cheerful  countenance  and  chatters 
to  me  till  he  goes  away. 

"  I  do  try  to  leave  Miss  Haas  and  walk  with 
some  of  the  girls  in  the  afternoons,  when  we 
come  home  from  chemical  lectures  (which,  by 
the  \vay,  I  detest).  The  professor  is  generally 
coming  out  of  his  house  about  that  time,  and 
walks  down  the  hill  with  us.  But,  somehow,  I 
never  can  escape.  They  always  talk  to  me  in 
the  politest  way,  and  I  hate  to  show  a  conscious- 
ness of  being  a  third  party. 

"  Sometimes  I  am  quite  ashamed  of  myself  for 
looking  so  curiously  at  these  two  people  as  I  find 
myself  doing.  Mrs.  Haas  says,  '  Theo  is  so  well 
suited  to  the  professor !  They  are  so  happy  to- 
gether!' I  suppose  they  are.  To  be  sure,  I'm 
not  experienced  in  lovers ;  and,  besides,  this  isn't 
a  pair  of  ordinary  mortals." 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  1 3  3 

Once  more,  after  a  long  and  somewhat  dry 
translation :  "  Here  I  have  written  myself  sleepy 
and  said  nothing  yet.  I  meant  to  have  journal- 
ized a  little  ;  to  have  told  how  I  got  up  at  half- 
past  five,  and  dressed  and  said  my  prayers  by 
star-light,  while  Miss  Haas  was  asleep  ;  and  then, 
with  a  shawl  over  my  head,  went  out  into  the 
crisp  air  for  a  moment,  fully  rewarded,  for  what- 
ever sacrifice  my  extra  virtue  involved,  by  a 
sight  of  Venus,  the  morning  star,  just  within  the 
horns  of  the  wan  old  moon.  Miss  Maria  was  go- 
ing to  the  city  by  the  early  train,  and  I  felt  just 
like  getting  up  in  time  to  pour  her  coffee  for  her. 
I  was  spared  the  latter  ceremony,  however,  as 
the  coachman  appeared  simultaneously  with  the 
coffee-pot,  and  she  ran  off  with  only  a  cracker 
between  her  fingers.  It  has  been  such  a  pleasant, 
long  day,  and  a  Friday  evening." 

Friday  evenings  were  among  the  pleasantest 
of  Oxford  institutions.  On  these  occasions,  the 
more  arduous  duties  of  the  week  being  past,  Miss 
Prescott  sat  in  her  parlor,  and,  in  a  black  silk 
dress  and  a  cap,  with  soft  lavender  ribbons,  re- 
ceived her  gentleman  acquaintances. 
'  The  young  ladies,  meanwhile,  were  permitted 
to  bask  in  the  smiles  of  their  male  friends  and 


JflSS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  cousins,"  and  the  large  room  was  generally 
thickly  bestud  with  smiling  groups,  chatty,  mu- 
sical, or  tender,  as  the  case  might  be.  Miss  Ma- 
ria, whose  mission  in  life  it  was  to  smooth  off  the 
rough  edges  and  make  things  easy,  was  always 
in  the  room  with  a  skein  of  worsted  for  some 
bashful  youth  to  help  her  wind,  or  a  suggestion 
of  music,  when  fearful  pauses  were  imminent. 
She  was  assisted  in  the  general  entertaining  by 
two  or  three  girls,  selected  in  turn  by  a  private 
system  of  her  own,  from  among  the  pupils. 

The  others  came  into  the  parlor  only  upon  the 
appearance  of  their  particular  knights,  and  there 
were  always  some  destined  to  sit  in  gay  attire  in 
their  rooms,  aggravating  their  disappointments 
by  rushing  to  the  hall  to  peer  over  the  balustrade 
at  every  ring  of  the  bell. 

Somehow  Helen,  in  one  capacity  or  another, 
was  almost  always  in  the  parlor.  Her  quiet  girl- 
hood had  brought  her  very  little  youthful  soci- 
ety of  a  congenial  kind,  but  she  took  to  the  new 
state  of  things  very  kindly.  She  developed  un- 
known powers  of  pleasing,  and  her  ways  grew 
free  and  pretty.  She  was  never  what  is  called  a 
fluent  talker,  but  more  and  more  she  said  bright 
or  pleasant  things  at  the  right  times,  and,  above 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  135 

all,  she  was  natural  and  herself.  As  that  self 
grew  sweet  and  sunny,  her  manners  grew  so  too. 
From  saying,  "  How  nice  Miss  Roberts  is  when 
she  lets  herself  out,"  or,  ".How  charming  that 
child  can  be,"  the  girls  and  Miss  Maria  came  to 
say  ;  "  I  hope  you'll  be  in  the  parlor  to-night.  I 
shall  be  dreadfully  frightened  if  you  are  not ;" 
or,  "  It's  going  to  be  stupid.  I  must  get  Helen 
down.  She'll  keep  the  ball  in  motion."  A  sense 
of  power  in  any  new  direction  is  always  an  in- 
spiration. Besides,  girls  dearly  love  to  please, 
'  as  the  sparks  fly  upward.  There  is  a  triumph 
which  few  feminine  souls  do  not  know  in  look- 
ing into  admiring  eyes. 

And  in  every  triumph  there  is  danger.  There 
was  quite  a  new  light  in  this  young  girl's  eyes 
as  she  went  up-stairs  after  some  of  these  even- 
ings— sometimes  a  little  too  excited  a  color  on 
her  cheek.  But  there  was  little  cause  to  fear 
real  harm.  There  was  one  who  was  always 
"  mindful."  And  Helen,  as  she  once  said  after- 
ward, had  a  constant  cure  for  anything  like  van- 
ity. She  seldom  quite  forgot  this,  though  she 
seldom  remembered  it  gloomily.  But  how  deep 
the  bitter  remedy  had  gone,  and  how  thorough 
had  been  its  work,  nobody  who  saw  her  guessed. 


136  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

By  reason  of  her  musical  propensities,  Helen 
was  much  in  the  parlor  on  the  evenings  that  were 
not  Fridays.  There  was  almost  always  singing  or 
playing  after  tea.  Miss  Haas  was  as  ready  to  com- 
municate in  music  as  in  her  other  sciences.  She 
played,  or,  as  she  preferred  to  say,  rendered  the 
works  of  the  masters  with  great  effect.  She 
swept  the  keys  of  the  grand  piano  with  a  power- 
ful and  well-trained  hand.  If  it  would  not  have 
been  flat  heresy,  one  might  have  longed  for  a 
little  more  shading  and  delicacy  sometimes. 

She  played  the  Pastoral  Symphony  with  all 
the  pedals  on,  and  made  a  perfect  thunder-storm 
of  the  Sonata  Pathetique.  But  her  power  and 
skill  were  certainly  magnificent.  Helen  did  not 
wonder  that  Professor  Wright  so  often  stayed 
for  half  an  hour  after  tea,  and  always  called  for 
music. 

Sometimes  Helen  played  too.  In  great  despite 
to  her  formerly  much -respected  moods,  and  in 
great  awe  of  Miss  Haas,  she  found  herself  obey- 
ing Miss  Prescott's  gentle  decrees,  and  doing 
what  she  could  for  the  entertainment  of  this 
roomful  of  learned  people  who  would  n't  talk. 
If  they  only  had  done  that,  it  would  have  been 
such  a  comfort. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  137 

After  the  playing,  there  was  generally  singing. 
The  professor  had  a  fine  bass  voice,  which  he 
was  fond  of  exercising,  particularly  on  Mendels- 
sohn's "four-part  songs,"  for  which  he  had  a 
special  liking,  and  which  he  always  handed 
round  in  a  grave,  decisive  way  when  he  thought 
the  proper  time  had  come. 

"  When  from  out  the  golden  West, 
Distant  mountain-clouds  are  beaming 
Alp-like  in  their  glorious  seeming, 
Oft  I  musing  ponder 
If  the  vision  yonder 
Be  the  eternal  vale  of  rest." 

they  sang  one  evening. 

"  When  you  and  Miss  Haas  come  up  to  see  one 
of  my  sunsets,  you  will  know  what  that  means," 
said  the  professor  to  Helen,  who  was  playing, 
and  turned  round  at  the  end  of  the  piece.  "  I 
think  none  of  you  who  do  not  look  out  of  my 
study  windows  sometimes  can  quite  enjoy  that 
as  I  do.  Once  more  —  let  us  have  that  once 
more — if  you  are  not  all  too  tired." 

"  I  believe  he  is  as  deep  and  hearty  in  his  own 
singing  as  he  is  in  his  sermons,"  thought  Helen, 
to  herself. 

She  liked  this  good  man  more  and  more  every 
day,  as  indeed  everybody  did  who  really  came 


1 3  8  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

to  know  him.  He  was  awkward,  to  be  sure  ; 
tall  without  being  stately,  and  with  nothing  that 
could  be  called  striking  about  him.  He  had  a 
brown,  rugged  forehead,  trusty  gray  eyes,  some- 
what deep  set,  a  nose  of  no  particular  signifi- 
cance, and  a  grave  mouth,  which  smiled  as  only 
grave  mouths  can  smile,  with  a  wonderful  depth 
of  kindliness  and  meaning. 

Notwithstanding  a  total  want  of  what  is  gene- 
rally called  "  presence,"  he  was  the  sort  of  man 
who,  on  coming  into  any  company,  brings  into 
it  something  that  very  decidedly  was  not  there 
before. 

Some  men, — perhaps  it  would  not  be  a  slander 
to  say  most  men,  and  women,  too, — simply  ap- 
pear among  others  like  a  kind  of  spectres.  You 
do  not  know  them  in  the  least,  though  you  may 
have  held  converse  with  their  shades  a  quarter  of 
a  century.  John  Wright  came  himself.  You 
felt  a  definite  sense  of  him,  and  that  was  a 
sense  of  strength  of  security  and  comfort  when 
he  came  in,  and  you  missed  it  when  he  went 
away.  This  was  probably  because  he  was  a 
simple  character.  Things  that  are  great  are  apt 
to  be  simple.  AH  little  and  lowly  creatures  loved 
this  man.  The  cat  jumped  up  to  his  knee  and 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  1 39 

sung  herself  to  sleep  on  his  coat  sleeve.  Little 
children  stole  up  to  his  side  and  stood  close  by 
him,  though  very  likely  he  would  not  say  a  word 
to  them,  but  would  only  cast  a  strong  arm  about 
them  and  stroke  their  hair  a  little  as  he  talked 
on  with  their  elders. 

All  genuine  people,  young  or  old,  liked  him. 
Only  those  flippant,  frivolous  souls  who  like  noth- 
ing heartily,  thought  him  "  awfully  stiff  and  quiet 
— so  quiet."  They  could  get  nothing  out  of  him. 

If  a  real  soul  spoke,  were  it  that  of  a  wise 
man,  or  ignorant  laborer  or  foolish  school-girl, 
or  little  child,  he  recognized  it  at  once,  and  met 
it  with  all  his  own.  But  before  falsehood  —  and 
what  is  frivolity  but  the  supremest  falsehood  ?  — 
he  was  dumb. 

Without  an  air  that  could  suggest  the  name 
of  gallantry,  this  man  was  always  especially  kind 
to  women.  "  Perfectly  invaluable  about  a  house," 
Miss  Maria  assured  Miss  Haas.  "  I  never  knew 
the  feeling  of  having  a  natural  protector  till 
now."  He  advised  about  her  railroad  bonds, 
and  offered  to  grind  the  carving-knives,  and  made 
himself  useful  in  a  hundred  little  ways  that  one 
would  have  thought  such  a  learned  man  would 
never  think  of. 


140  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

He  brought  up  letters  from  the  post-office 
(though,  owing  to  a  common  weakness  of  human- 
ity, he  did  sometimes  carry  them  in  his  pocket  a 
day  or  two  before  delivering  them),  and  had  been 
known  to  match  a  skein  of  worsted  for  one  of  the 
girls. 

The  talkative  little  Mrs.  Haas  was  insufferably 
tiresome  to  everybody  else,  but  Professor  Wright 
always  listened  to  her  with  a  grave  respect.  In- 
deed, Helen  sometimes  thought  that  he  showed 
his  affection  for  the  daughter  more  by  this  un- 
varying kindness  to  her  mother  than  in  any  other 
way.  The  secret  of  it  was  that  the  good  man 
had  found  this  woman  in  great  trouble  once,  and 
remembered  it  in  his  knightly  soul  long  after  the 
volatile  little  lady  had  almost  forgotten  it. 

This  is  a  long  chapter  already,  and  I  will  keep 
you  but  a  moment  longer.  Only  have  you  never 
noticed  in  the  spring  how  little  flowers  that  have 
kept  their  royal  gold  and  crimson  all  folded  over 
and  secret  in  their  hearts  through  the  winds  of 
March  will  open  to  the  genial  May?  and  how, 
when  they  have  pushed  up  through  the  cold  and 
are  all  ready  to  put  on  their  beautiful  garments, 
May  is  sure  to  come  ? 

Among  these  free,  true  people,  the  most  "  cul- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE,  j^j 

tivated"  she  had  ever  known,  and  yet,  for  the 
most  part,  the  simplest,  the  heart  of  the  new 
pupil  was  growing  and  opening  fast.  She  did 
not  think  to  be  reserved,  and  had  quite  forgotten 
that  anybody  ever  thought  her  queer.  Her  face 
grew  brighter  every  day.  Her  cheeks  grew 
round,  and  had  a  pretty  color  in  them.  Her 
eyes  seemed  to  grow  deeper,  her  forehead  purer. 
Her  mouth  learned  a  ready  smile.  They  said  it 
was  the  Oxford  air.  And  they  said  true. 


"  Fair  daffodils,  we  weep  to  see 

You  haste  away  so  soon  ; 
As  yet  the  early-rising  sun 
Hath  not  attained  his  noon  : 

Stay,  stay, 
Until  the  hastening  day 

Has  run 

But  to  the  even-song  ; 
And,  having  prayed  together,  we 
Will  go  with  you  along." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

ONE  day  Miss  Maria  came  into  Helen's  room 
with  concern  upon  her  open  face. 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  Ida,"  she  said, 
for  Miss  Maria  was  one  of  those  rare  and  blessed 
women  who  always  go  straight  to  the  point. 
Helen  only  looked  her  astonishment  at  anything 
so  much  like  consultation,  drew  up  the  rocking- 
chair  for  her  visitor,  and  seated  herself  on  a 
cricket  beside  her.  Miss  Maria  reached  down 
for  her  hand  and,  having  taken  it  and  patted  it 
in  her  own  funny,  loving  little  way,  was  ready  to 
talk. 

"  That  child  isn't  going  to  get  well,  Helen.  I 
feel  surer  of  it  every  day,  and  the  doctor  says  so, 
too.  It  is  time  that  she  should  know  what  we 
think.  I  came  to  ask  you  if  you  couldn't  hint  it 
to  her  gently  in  some  way." 

"  I  ?     Miss  Maria  !" 

Helen's  eyes  had  been  growing  very  serious, 
and  now  she  covered  them  with  her  hand. 
7  (145) 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

11  She  has  been  so  fond  of  you  always.  I 
thought  it  might  be  easier  for  her  to  hear  it 
first  from  you  than  from  any  one  else." 

"  Her  mother  ?"  suggested  Helen. 

"  Her  mother  is  not  her  own  mother,  dear. 
And  she  is  a  weak,  light-minded  woman.  She 
ought  to  know  it  soon,  of  course,  but  I  would 
rather  Ida  should  know  it  first,  and  from  one  of 
us.  It  will  be  easier." 

There  was  a  little  silence. 

"  It  seems  to  me  perfectly  impossible  now," 
said  Helen  at  length,  in  a  low  voice. 

Miss  Maria  was  a  wise  woman,  so  she  only  bent 
down  and  kissed  the  young  girl's  forehead,  and 
there  was  another  little  silence. 

"  It  is  almost  tea-time.  I  must  go  now,"  she 
said  presently.  "  I  only  wanted  to  suggest  this 
thing  to  you,  dear.  If  you  do  not  find  an  oppor- 
tunity to  do  it  within  a  day  or  two,  let  me  know, 
and  I  will  do  it." 

The  next  morning,  during  Helen's  practice- 
hour,  Ida  lay  on  the  sofa,  as  she  often  did  of  late, 
feebly  turning  over  her  history.  She  had  given 
up  most  of  her  studies,  but  had  begged  to  keep 
that  one.  As  Helen  looked  at  her  in  the  light 
of  her  new  knowledge,  she  wondered  that  she 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

had  not  noticed  before  how  very  white  and  thin 
the  little  hands  had  grown  ;  how  lustrous  her 
eyes  were,  and  how  often,  in  speaking,  she  stopped 
to  cough.  Helen  loved  her  gentle  friend  that 
day  with  a  feeling  entirely  new  to  her  heart.  No- 
thing so  near  to  her  had  ever  before  spread  its 
wings  and  flown  away.  It  is  the  one  compensa- 
tion of  a  lonely  life  that  few  bereavements  come 
to  it ;  but  Helen's  life  was  growing  rich,  and  with 
the  riches  must  loss  come,  too  ?  She  played 
her  sweetest  melodies,  and  sang  the  songs  she 
knew  Ida  loved  best,  and  after  a  while,  before  the 
hour  was  up,  came  and  sat  down  by  Ida's  side, 
and  took  the  book  out  of  her  hands,  and  began 
to  play  with  her  long,  light  hair — trying  to  be 
bright,  but,  at  the  same  time,  with  a  thoughtful 
face. 

Ida  seemed  thoughtful,  too,  and  they  talked 
of  trifles  in  grave  voices.  But,  at  every  word, 
further  and  further  seemed  to  go  Helen's  power 
to  speak  that  with  which  her  heart  was  burdened. 
How  could  she  look  into  the  fair  young  face,  and 
say  that  little  word  ?  Why,  when  the  two  girls' 
eyes  were  looking  into  each  other,  as  the  stars 
look  into  the  sea ;  when  their  soft  hands  were 
clasped  together,  and  their  tones  were  low  and 


I48  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

i 

familiar,  why  was  there  such  a  gulf  between  them 
in  that  one  little  word  ? 

"  I  wonder  she  doesn't  see  it,"  thought  Helen. 
"  I  wonder  she  doesn't  feel  it — I  feel  it  so  all  over 
me.  It  seems  to  me  it  will  be  one  of  the  greatest 
joys  of  heaven  for  hearts  to  know  each  other 
without  all  this  machinery,"  and  the  thought 
came  to  her  for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  She 
had  had  no  occasion  to  look  at  this  side  of  heaven 
before. 

Perhaps  Ida  did  see  it ;  perhaps  for  her,  too, 
there  was  a  little  wo'rd  which  it  was  hard  to  say. 
She  put  her  hand  wearily  to  her  head,  and  said 
how  dull  they  both  were  to-day,  and  laughed  a 
little,  and  then  the  bell  rang,  and  Miss  Haas  and 
little  Mary  Mitchell  came  in  for  a  music  lesson. 

It  was  very  much  the  same  the  next  morning, 
and  the  next,  and  when  Helen  went  into  Ida's 
room,  as  she  did  on  both  days,  to  return  a  bor- 
rowed postage-stamp  and  to  take  a  sprig  of  the 
very  first  of  the  pussy-willows  which  the  January 
thaw  had  brought  out,  and  the  professor  had 
brought  in  to  the  German  readers. 

But,  on  the  third  morning,  Helen,  turning  over 
her  music-book,  found  her  old  "  Slumber  Song," 
and  played  it. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  I  love  that  so !  I  wish  you  would  play  that 
to  me  when  I  am  dying,"  said  Ida,  solemnly,  from 
the  sofa. 

Helen  grew  a  little  pale.  She  started  up,  and 
then  she  hesitated.  She  was  not  used  to  follow- 
ing impulses.  If  she  had  only  gone  at  first ;  but 
every  moment  it  grew  harder.  But  before  Ida 
spoke  again  she  was  on  the  floor  before  her,  the 
fair  bright  head  drawn  down  close  within  her 
arms.  Not  a  word  was  spoken,  and  neither  of 
the  girls  cried,  but  when  they  lifted  their,  heads 
both  faces  were  very  serious  and  very  sweet. 

"  You  can't  think  how  hard  it  has  been  for  me 
to  say  anything  about  it,"  said  Ida,  still  nestling 
in  Helen's  neck.  "  I  am  so  glad  you  know  it. 
I  have  known  perfectly  well,  for  a  long  time, 
what  the  doctor  thought,  and  all  of  them,  but 
they  wouldn't  speak,  and  I  couldn't.  But  I  knew 
mother  ought  to  know,  and  I  was  going  to  write 
to  her  to-day  and  ask  her  to  come  and  see  me. 
You  must  tell  Miss  Maria,  please,  and — I  think 
Professor  Wright  knows,  for  he  has  been  so  kind 
and  said  such  good  things  to  me.  There  is  only 
one  thing  I  want,  and  that  is  to  stay  here,  just  as 
long  as  I  may.  Mother  is  so  busy  with  the  other 
children  —  I  think  it  would  be  very  hard  for  her 


150  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

—  and  I  love  the  dear  old  place  so.  Will  you 
ask  Miss  Maria,  and  tell  her  all  I  can't  say  ?" 

It  was  very  strange  to  Helen.  She  had  never 
been  a  confidante  before  ;  she  had  never  been  a 
comforter ;  she  had  never  felt  that  she  could  be 
so  much  a  friend.  She  was  almost  afraid,  and 
shrank  a  little,  but  Ida  kissed  her  and  clung  to 
her  so. 

In  a  few  days  it  was  all  arranged.  Mrs.  Manly 
came,  and  cried  a  great  deal  and  talked  a  great 
deal  more.  Ida  was  very  sweet,  and  patient,  and 
comforting  to  her,  but  everybody  was  relieved 
when  she  had  gone  back  to  her  younger  chil- 
dren, and  it  was  settled  that  Ida  was  to  stay  at 
Miss  Prescott's  for  the  present,  at  least  till  spring 
opened  and  the  weather  was  more  settled,  they 
said.  It  would  be  a  risk  to  take  the  journey  in 
the  winter,  and  her  mother  could  come  at  any 
time  if  she  were  needed. 

"  Then  she  seems  still  so  bright  and  well !  The 
doctor  is  doing  his  best,  and  she  has  such  good 
care  !  I  hope  a  great  deal  from  the  warm  weath- 
er yet,  and  there's  nothing  like  keeping  up  good 
courage,"  said  Mrs.  Manly,  putting  on  her  bon- 
net before  the  mirror,  and  carefully  pinning  her 
widow's  bow. 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  151 

Ida  did  seem  very  bright  still.  She  came  down 
stairs  almost  every  day  for  some  weeks  yet,  and 
brought  a  pleasant  face  into  the  history  class 
whenever  she  felt  able. 

With  Helen's  help  she  began  a  large,  handsome 
sofa-blanket,  to  leave  for  Miss  Prescott.  Some 
of  Helen's  pleasantest  memories  are  worked  in 
with  those  bright  wools.  Ida  insisted  on  doing 
something  on  every  strip  herself,  and,  with  fin- 
gers that  were  fast  growing  white  and  feeble,  she 
worked  roses,  pansies  and  daisies  that  would 
keep  her  memory  fresh  and  sweet  for  many 
years. 

Ida  had  always  been  a  favorite,  but  the  girls 
loved  her  better  than  ever  now.  Miss  Maria  said 
if  she  missed  anybody,  she  always  knew  where 
to  look.  Her  room  was  the  general  resort  out 
of  study  hours,  and,  as  she  grew  weaker,  her  bed 
was  the  centre  of  a  pretty  group,  of  which  she 
was  often  the  very  merriest. 

More  and  more  an  atmosphere  of  brightness 
and  purity  seemed  to  surround  her,  and,  though 
she  said  very  little  about  it,  her  going  away 
seemed  daily  more  the  sweet  and  happy  thing  it 
really  is  to  those  who,  like  Ida,  have  given  all 
their  trusts  into  the  safest  and  tenderest  hands. 


I  $2  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

A  Sunday  or  two  after  Mrs.  Manly  went  away, 
Miss  Prescott's  girls  in  their  six-corner  pews  in 
the  old  Oxford  chapel,  turned  their  thirty  pretty 
heads  with  a  pleased  surprise  as  they  saw  their 
own  professor  stride  up  the  broad  aisle  toward 
the  pulpit.  Miss  Haas,  at  the  organ,  broke  out 
into  jubilant  strains.  Miss  Maria  looked  around 
with  satisfaction  in  her  eyes,  and  Helen  couldn't 
help  being  glad  that  Miss  Prescott  had  been  a 
little  afraid  of  the  threatening  February  sky,  and 
had  preferred  to  sit  by  Ida  and  read  her  the  ser- 
mon which  she  herself  had  promised  to  read. 
The  good  man  mounted  the  stairs  0f  the  high 
old  box  of  a  pulpit,  and  carefully  shut  and  but- 
toned himself  in.  He  wore  his  ministerial  black 
and  white,  and  the  ordinary  look  of  quiet  serious- 
ness on  his  face  seemed  a  little  deepened.  Not 
that  there  was  the  slightest  putting  on  of  grav- 
ity, or  a  suggestion  of  anything  like  sanctimony 
in  look  or  manner,  but  you  felt  that  he  had  a 
solemn  work  to  do,  and  that  he  came  to  do  it  in 
all  solemnity.  Helen  knew  the  look  for  she  had 
seen  it  before,  and  the  hush  that  fell  upon  the 
large  assembly  when  he  rose  and  lifted  up  his 
voice  in  prayer,  was  the  same  in  kind  that  was 
always  to  be  felt  in  the  school-room,  as  the  girls 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  1 5  3 

sat,  for  a  moment,  with  bowed  heads  before  the 
Bible  lesson  began  and  their  teacher  prayed  for 
them. 

The  hush  and  attention  continued  when,  after 
the  singing",  the  sermon  began.  There  was  no- 
thing remarkable  about  this  minister's  voice.  It 
was  not  a  powerful  one  —  not  a  very  good  one.. 
It  was  only  true  and  natural,  and  he  seemed  to 
use  it  simply  as  the  best  translator  of  his  soul  he 
had  at  hand.  There  was  not  a  particle  of  oratory 
about  him.  His  gestures  were  few  and  awkward. 
His  long  arms  hung  by  his  side.  He  failed,  more- 

» 

over,  of  that  magnetism  which  sometimes  lies  in 
the  eye,  for  he  was  quite  short-sighted,  and  he 
confined  himself  closely  to  his  manuscript.  Ev- 
ery sophomore  knows  that  is  bad.  The  truth  is, 
he  had  absolutely  no  good  points  as  a  speaker, 
except  the  common  ones  (or  those  which  ought 
to  be  common)  of  manliness  and  earnestness. 
Yet  the  people  always  heard  him  gladly.  The 
influence  which  came  from  him  was  not  one 
which  comes  from  any  sense  or  appeals  to  any 
sense.  It  was  the  remoter  and  higher  one  of 
spirit  upon  spirit.  It  was  that  strong  force  which 
comes  from  a  living  soul  whose  life  ("  and  that 
not  of  itself,  it  is  the  gift  of  God  ")  is  pure  and 
7* 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

high  to  other  living   souls  whom  it  loves   and 
would  help  up. 

"  I  never  knew  before  what  unction  meant," 
said  Helen  to  herself.  She  shrank  further  into 
her  corner-seat,  and  wrapped  herself  around  with 
the  holy  and  solemn  thoughts  that  fell  from  the 
familiar  voice.  "  Whatsoever  hath  a  blemish  that 
shalt  thou  not  offer."  No  maimed  or  stunted  life  ; 
no  scarred  and  spotted  character ;  no  partial, 
grudging  service  —  only  the  best  of  everything; 
the  purest  and  truest  living  ;  the  loftiest  charac- 
ter ;  the  sweetest  flowers  of  virtue  ;  the  entire 
service  of  the  heart.  No  poor  remnant  of  an 
evil  life  ;  no  scraps  of  time  or  service  ;  no  di- 
vided duties,  but  the  youth  and  flower  of  life 
the  whole  time  ;  the  best  strength  and  talent ; 
the  entire  being  —  good,  as  God  made  it  good. 
How  little  and  low  it  made  all  her  life  look  !  how 
poor  her  richest  moments  !  In  what  utter  weak- 
ness she  had  tried  to  be  a  better  girl,  and  thought 
she  was  getting  on. 

"  Lord,  who  is  sufficient  'for  these  things  ?" 
cried  out  the  young  girl's  heart.  And  the  an- 
swer came :  "  But  with  the  precious  blood  of 
Christ  as  of  a  lamb  without  blemish  and  without 
spot." 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE:  1 5  5 

When  the  quiet,  solemn  words  had  ceased,  and 
the  congregation  rose  to  go,  there  were  better 
hearts  and  higher  purposes  in  that  church  than 
came  into  it  an  hour  ago.  The  faces  wore  a  look 
that  told  of  holy  things.  People  did  not  linger 
in  the  aisles  and  talk.  They  spoke  in  quiet  voices 
if  at  all,  and  walked  softly.  Helen  wondered 
how  Miss  Haas  could  come  down  the  gallery 
stairs  talking  to  the  chorister  with  her  ordinary 
voice  and  look.  She  wondered,  and  then  she 
tried  to  check  the  thought.  It  was  a  spot. 
She  wanted  to  be  clean  and  right. 

Though  the  chapel  blinds  had  been  open,  no- 
body had  noticed  till  they  reached  the  door,  how 
it  was  snowing.  The  paths  across  the  college- 
yard  were  already  only  soft,  gray  lines  through 
the  spreading  whiteness.  The  air  was  full  of  the 
fluttering,  wing -like  flakes.  There  was  a  great 
putting  up  of  umbrellas  and  tying  of  handker- 
chiefs over  bonnets.  Miss  Haas  came  up  to  her 
room-mate  (Miss  Prescott's  family  always  went 
to  and  from  church  by  rooms),  and  just  at  that 
moment  polite  old  General  Jackson,  who  had 
nobody  but  himself  in  his  carriage  to-day,  bowed 
himself  up  to  Miss  Maria,  and  begged  to  take 
some  of  the  ladies  home.  The  teachers  one  and 


156  -        MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

all  accepted,  and  Miss  Maria  beckoned  for  Helen 
to  follow,  but  she  shook  her  head  vigorously. 
She  had  stepped  back  for  a  moment  to  pin  up  a 
dress  for  one  of  the  girls,  and  was  glad  enough 
to  escape,  and  Miss  Maria,  unwilling  to  keep  the 
old  gentleman  waiting,  a  little  anxiously  drove 
away.  Helen  slipped  behind  the  other  girls  and 
walked  alone,  happy  to  be  in  the  pure  and  silent 
snow.  But  presently  an  umbrella  came  over  her 
head,  and  she  looked  up  into  the  face  of  the  man 
on  whose  words  she  was  pondering.  A  feeling 
of  reverence  for  him  and  his  goodness  —  almost 
an  awe  —  stole  over  her,  and  not  even  her 
"  Thank  you,  sir,"  came  out  of  her  lips.  The 
words  seemed  so  little  and  useless.  Neither  did 
the  professor  speak  till,  an  unusually  large  and 
beautiful  snow-flake  having  rested  on  his  coat- 
sleeve,  he  called  Helen's  attention  to  it,  quite  in 
his  ordinary  tone  and  as  if  they  had  just  done 
speaking. 

"  That  is  perfect  and  pure,"  said  Helen,  softly. 

"Yes,  perfect  and  pure,"  said  the  good  man, 
smiling.  "  He  loves  to  make  things  so." 

Helen  looked  up  quickly  and  caught  his  thought 
with  grateful  eyes.  That  was  all  that  was  said 
all  the  way  home,  and  when  they  reached  Miss 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  \  5  7 

Prescott's  door  the  professor  bowed  and  walked 
away.  He  did  not  come  at  all  to  luncfe.  He 
never  did  when  he  preached,  the  girls  said. 

That  afternoon  Helen  was  tired  with  her  un- 
usual walk,  and  it  was  too  snowy  to  go  out  again. 
She  lay  on  her  lounge  with  her  face  to  the  wall, 
and  Miss  Haas,  when  she  had  come  back  from 
her  organ  duties  and  sat  at  her  table  writing, 
thought  her  room-mate  asleep.  But  her  eyes 
were  wide  open,  and  she  was  saying  over  and 
over  to  herself,  all  she  could  remember  of  an  old 
German  hymn  she  had  read  somewhere  long 

••  Ah  !  little  have  I,  Lord,  to  give, 
So  poor,  so  base,  the  life  I  live  ; 

But  yet  till  soul  and  body  part, 
This  one  thing  I  will  do  for  Thee — 
The  woe,  the  death  endured  for  me, 

I'll  cherish  in  my  inmost  heart. 

"  Thy  cross  shall  be  before  my  sight, 
My  hope,  my  joy  by  day  and  night, 

Whate'er  I  do,  where'er  I  rove  ! 
And  gazing,  I  will  gather  thence 
The  form  of  spotless  innocence, 

The  seal  of  faultless  truth  and  love. 

"  And  I  will  nail  me  to  thy  cross 
And  learn  to  count  all  things  but  dross, 

Wherein  the  flesh  doth  pleasure  take  ; 
Whate'er  is  hateful  in  thine  eyes, 
With  all  the  strength  that  in  me  lies, 

Will  I  cast  from  me  and  forsake." 


1 5  8  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

,  Professor  Wright  came,  as  usual,  at  tea-time. 
Helenas  feeling  of  awe  did  not  wear  off  at  once. 
She  was  almost  astonished  to  see  him  eat  and 
drink  like  an  ordinary  man,  and  she  was  quite 
astonished  to  hear  Miss  Haas  unfolding  to  him, 
with  her  usual  volubility,  some  theory  of  Kant's 
she  had  come  across  lately,  and  asking  his 
opinion  of  it.  The  honor  which  this  woman 
must  feel  for  this  good  man  was,  to  Helen,  some- 
thing very  beautiful  and  very  wonderful.  After 
tea  they  sang,  as  usual,  at  Miss  Prescott's  of  a 
Sunday  evening.  Every  girl  chose  a  hymn,  and 
they  finished  with  "  Jerusalem,  the  golden  "  for 
Ida,  who  was  on  the  sofa  in  the  little  study.  Al- 
together, that  was  a  white  day  for  Helen,  though 
she  said  nothing  about  it  in  the  padlocked  book, 
and  went  to  bed  very  early,  long  before  Miss 
Haas  came  up. 

Not  long  after  this  Sunday  Helen  was  practic- 
ing busily  away  one  morning  on  her  "  Rondo 
Capriccioso  "  for  the  soiree,  when  the  parlor  door 
suddenly  opened  and  Professor  Wright  appeared. 

"  I  have  brought  something  for  you  to  see,"  he 
said,  advancing  to  the  piano,  and  beckoning  to- 
ward the  open  door  behind  him.  And  in  tum- 
bled five  of  the  raggedest,  wildest  little  speci- 


MISS  ROBERTS   FORTUNE. 

mens  of  humanity  that  one  could  imagine,  and 
closed  in  an  irregular  circle  around  the  tall  pro- 
fessor. Helen  looked  on  with  unfeigned  amaze- 
ment and  much  delight.  She  had  never  seen 
anything  like  it  before.  Any  one  of  them  in  a 
picture  would  have  made  an  artist's  fortune  ;  and 
they  brought  in  on  their  wicked  little  faces,  such 
a  vigorous  breeze  of  that  boy-life  of  which  she 
knew  so  little,  that  it  was  like  being  suddenly 
plunged  into  a  new  element. 

"  It's  certainly  such  an  assortment  of  black 
eyes  as  I  never  saw,"  she  said  at  last,  drawing  a 
long  breath. 

"  That  will  do.  You  may  go  now,"  said  the 
professor,  and  hustled  them  out  as  unceremo- 
niously as  they  had  come  in.  But  he  came  back 
himself  and  shut  the  door. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  for  the  interruption,  but 
this  is  a  delegation,  and  delegations  are  import- 
ant bodies  you  know.  They  came  to  tell  you 
that  there  are  five  more  just  like  them  down  at 
the  old  basket  factory  every  Sunday  afternoon, 
and  to  ask  if  you  will  come  down  there  and  talk 
to  them." 

Helen  laughed.  She  understood  the  trick  now. 
She  had  heard  of  the  professor's  new  Sunday- 


l6o  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

school  in  the  old  basket  factory  off  on  the  west- 
ern edge  of  the  town,  in  what  was  called  the 
"  mud-turtle  "  region.  The  girls  had  told  her 
how  he  had  spent  all  Thanksgiving -Day  brush- 
ing down  cobwebs,  and  cleaning  and  papering 
the  dusty  old  place,  for  his  school  of  seven  the 
next  Sunday,  and  how  the  school  was  growing 
so  that  now  the  room  was  hardly  large  enough 
for  those  who  came. 

"  But,  Professor  Wright,"  she  began,  "  I  nev- 
er—" 

"  I  know  it  is  too  far  to  ask  you  to  walk,"  said 
the  professor,  very  impolitely  interrupting  her 
in  the  midst  of  her  sentence,  "  but  I  hope  in  a 
few  weeks  to  have  an  omnibus  for  the  teachers, 
and,  perhaps,  till  then  you  could  manage  it." 

'•Oh,  yes,  sir!  Mr.  Moore  and  I  could  man- 
age that,  but — why,  I  don't  know  anything  about 
such  children.  I  never  had  anything  to  do  with 
them  in  my  life." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  Good-bye.  I  hope  I  haven't 
seriously  injured  the  prospects  of  the  soiree.  If 
you  think  of  any  real  objections  to  the  proposi- 
tion of  my  delegates,  please  let  me  know." 

Of  course,  the  young  lady  took  the  class.  To 
be  sure,  it  was  with  great  trepidation  of  mind 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  ifa 

that,  the  next  Sunday  afternoon  at  two  o'clock, 
she  alighted  from  Mr.  Moore's  carriage  into  a 
crowd  of  screaming  little  savages,  and  made  her 
way  towards  the  old  building.  And  the  trepida- 
tion, was  rather  increased  than  otherwise  when 
the  superintendent,  having  met  her  at  the  door 
and  given  her  a  seat  close  by,  left  her  without 
a  word  of  parley  or  introduction,  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  the  ten  muscular  youngsters 
kicking  their  heels  in  expectancy  before  her.  It 
was  a  class  that  had  successfully  defied  all  pre- 
vious efforts  at  instruction,  and  put  to  rout  a  big 
but  meek -voiced  tutor  only  the  Sunday  before. 
But  the  wise  professor  was  wise  enough  to  keep 
this  fact  to  himself  till  many  a  long  day  after- 
ward. In  happy  unconsciousness  then,  and  in  a 
genuine  interest  and  a  kind  of  admiration  for 
these  remarkable  little  beings,  their  new  teacher 
sat  before  them.  She  hadn't  the  slightest  idea 
what  was  the  proper  thing  to  do  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. The  tutor,  on  the  contrary,  had 
had,  and  had  done  it,  with  the  aforesaid  re- 
sult. 

There  was  not  a  particle  of  cant  or  shame 
about  this  young  woman.  If  she  had  n't  any- 
thing to  say  that  she  really  meant,  she  was  very 


1 62  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

apt  to  keep  silence.  And  it  was  not  in  her  to  be 
patronizing. 

Happy  for  her  and  for  them,  too,  that  the 
sharp-eyed  little  creatures  watching  her  ev.ery 
movement,  read  some  such  story  in  her  face 
those  first  three  minutes.  Then  she  was  pretty, 
and  a  lady,  and  boys,  the  very  roughest  of  them, 
have  a  natural  loyalty  in  them  towards  ladies, 
and  a  wonderful  keenness  in  distinguishing  the 
real  from  the  artificial  in  that  article. 

Miss  Roberts  has,  and  had,  five  minutes  after 
it  was  all  over,  very  little  idea  what  she  said  or 
did  that  day.  When  she  began  to  talk  she 
watched  her  audience,  and  talked  accordingly. 
Sometimes  she  made  them  laugh,  but  she  found 
that  like  other  people,  they  were  not  always  hap- 
piest when  they  were  laughing.  She  tried  to 
illustrate  the  cardinal  virtues  by  tales  of  her  own 
making  up,  but  the  boys  began  to  nestle.  She 
found,  as  all  who  have  tried  to  be  teachers  of 
the  truth  have  found  before  her,  that  nothing 
went  so  deep  as  that  "  old,  old  story,"  so  pitifully 
new  to  them,  and  which  from  its  very  sacred- 
ness  she  was  almost  afraid  to  touch  upon  at  first. 
It  never  seemed  sweeter  or  more  wonderful  to 
her  than  it  did  as  she  told  it  to  these  outcast 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  163 

children.  Her  voice  dropped  low  and  her 
cheeks  flushed.  The  little  fellows  crowded 
around  her.  They  pulled  her  ear-rings,  they 
stepped  on  her  silk  dress,  they  put  their  dirty 
little  hands  all  over  her  white  muff.  And  this 
was  Helen  Roberts — the  dainty,  and  particular, 
and  reserved  Helen  Roberts. 

As  she  went  on  the  little  faces  grew  still  and 
eager.  Oh,  if  she  could  only  get  near  to  their 
hearts.  Her  voice  dropped  lower  and  trembled, 
her  eyes  were  full  of  love  and  prayer. 

When  the  bell  rang,  and  the  buzz  of  teaching 
ceased,  and  the  school  rose  to  sing,  "  Oh,  do  not 
be  discouraged,"  with  lusty  voices,  the  new 
teacher  found  herself  very  tired. 

"  How  did  you  like  it,  dear?"  said  Mrs.  Haas, 
who  had  begged  the  privilege  of  coming  to  see 
the  dear  professor's  school  to-day,  and  was  hang- 
ing on  his  arm. 

"  Like  it  ? — what,  ma'am  ? — oh,  I  don't  know. 
I  have  n't  thought  of  that." 

The  professor  handed  Helen  to  her  carriage, 
and  shut  the  door  with  a  bang.  She  was  half 
way  up  the  hill  before  she  thought  that  Mrs. 
Haas  might  have  come  with  her  in  the  carriage. 
"  Oh,  dear,  and  there  are  all  those  other  people, 


1 64  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

that  Miss  Collins,  and  that  pale  Miss  Webb— 
they  might  come  with  me  always  just  as  well 
— oh,  dear,  shall  I  ever,  ever  learn  ?  Please,  Mr. 
Moore,  turn  back  right  away." 

They  met  Mrs.  Haas  and  the  professor  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill.  But  the  sprightly  little  lady 
would  not  come. 

"  I  prefer  to  walk,  thank  you,  my  dear.  The 
air  is  pleasant,  and  we  were  talking — the  professor 
and  I — we  have  many  pleasant  things  to  talk  of." 
And,  all  her  ribbons  fluttering,  she  turned  to 
the  grave  man,  with  that  peculiarly,  winning  smile 
which  she  often  put  on  for  him,  and  which 
Helen  wondered  if  he  liked.  Mr.  Moore  turned 
round  and  the  carriage  went  up  the  hill  again  at 
a  gallop.  The  next  Sunday,  Miss  Collins  and  the 
pale  Miss.  Webb,  rode  home  with  Miss  Roberts. 

But  perhaps  the  best  part  of  the  Sunday-school 
was  the  week-day  visiting.  This,  too,  Helen 
undertook  with  many  fears.  She  knew  almost 
nothing,  except  what  she  had  read  in  books, 
about  the  abodes  of  poverty.  Occasionally  she 
had  gone  with  Mitty  to  take  a  basket  of  flowers 
or  a  Thanksgiving  dinner  to  some  of  th'e  most 

respectable  of  Mr.  Saxton's  poor  people,  but  that 
was  all. 


jr 
MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  16$ 

But  her  interest  in  these  boys  and  their  fathers 
and  mothers,  grew  heartier  at  every  visit,  and 
more  and  more  she  found  them  looking  pleased 
when  she  came.  In  the  first  place,  they  were 
glad  to  see  her.  It  was  as  rare  as  sunshine  in 
those  bare  and  dreary  rooms  to  have  a  little  rus- 
tle of  silks,  a  pretty  nodding  and  floating  of 
feathers,  and  something  like  roses  in  the  air  when 
the  lady  took  out  her  white  handkerchief. 

Then,  though  she  grieved  many  and  many  a 
time  that  she  had  not  talked  more  and  better  to 
these  people,  this  little  lady  was  learning  to 
share  with  them  whatever  good  and  sweet 
thoughts  came  to  her  mind,  and  good  and  sweet 
thoughts  came  there  oftener,  the  more  she  want- 
ed them  and  used  them. 

Old  Betty  Mulligan,  Pat's  grandmother,  did  not 
get  down  on  her  knees  before  her,  and  call  down 
blessings  on  her  head  in  the  Virgin's  name,  but 
the  morning  after  Miss  Roberts'  call,  as  she  was 
watering  her  scarlet  geranium  in  the  one  sunny 
corner  of  her  window  bench,  the  old  thing  was 
smiling  and  muttering  to  herself,  "  She  said  she 
sometimes  thought  the  flowers  knew  who  loved 
them — they  blossomed  so  bright  for  them  that  is 
kind  to  them,  and  shure,  as  she  said,  it  takes  a 


j66  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

dale  of  kindness  to  make  anything  blossom  in 
this  old  alley." 

Mrs.  Mulligan,  by  the  way,  was  known  to  be 
very  severe  on  her  grandson,  Pat,  and  that  young 
man  was  in  the  habit  of  carrying  with  him  to  Sun- 
day-school and  everywhere  else  where  he  went, 
the  visible  signs  of  her  skill  and  powers,  in  the 
matter  of  maternal  discipline.  Perhaps  the  old 
woman  had  failed  entirely  to  observe  the  point 
of  her  visitor's  remarks,  but  it  is  certain  that  she 
spent  so  much  time  over  her  geranium  that 
morning,  that  the  youthful  Patrick,  skirmishing 
in  her  rear,  and  drinking  liberal  draughts  from 
the  molasses  cup  on  the  mantel  shelf,  escaped 
one  whipping  that  week. 

And  it  was  not  all  giving.  It  never  is.  In 
one  of  the  dreariest  of  these  tenements,  at  the 
top  of  three  crazy  flights  of  stairs,  Helen  found 
a  pale  young  woman  sewing,  with  a  perfect, 
happy  family  of  babies,  and  dogs,  and  kittens 
and  canary-birds  about  her.  There  was  a  large 
cage  in  the  corner  of  the  room  with  the  door 
open,  and  actually  twenty-eight  of  the  pretty, 
singing  creatures  flying  in  and  out.  There  was 
an  old  blind  poodle  so  devoted  to  the  interests 
of  this  happy  commune  that  he  would  let  the 


MJSS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

birds  sit  on  his  back  and  tear  off  his  wool  to  make 
their  nests  of.  And  the  cats  would  purr  the 
puppies  to  sleep,  and  the  kittens  would  play  with 
the  birds,  and  the  babies  would  sit  on  the  floor 
and  crow  at  the  whole  of  them. 

"  I'm  sure  this  is  worth  going  anywhere  to 
see,"  said  the  young  lady,  in  a  state  of  great  in- 
ward delight  going  down  to  her  carriage,  and 
she  told  Mr.  Moore  all  about  it  before  they  reach- 
ed home. 

Then  there  was  poor  little  Jimmy  Ross,  who 
had  had  a  terrible  fall  and  had  been  very  sick, 
and  would  be  very  lame  always.  The  poor 
little  fellow  could  n't  get  used  to  it.  He  had 
been  getting  up  in  the  world — carrying  papers 
for  a  dollar  a  week — and  had  visions  of  an  inde- 
pendent news-stand  some  of  these  days. 

"  He  can't  seem  to  be  reconciled  like,  Miss," 
said  the  anxious-looking  mother.  "  He  just  sits 
there  in  his  chair  all  day  and  don't  take  no  inter- 
est. And  he's  growing  real  cross." 

"  The  poor  little  fellow  !  It's  pretty  hard  work. 
See  !  I'm  coming  over  there  to  see  you,  my  little 
boy!  I  know  something  about  this,  too  —  per- 
haps not  as  much  as  you  do  —  but  I  can  tell  you 
something,"  she  said,  softly,  coming  up  to  the 


j68  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

child.  And  she  took  the  little  helpless  creature 
on  her  lap,  and  the  pretty  floating  feather  drooped 
down  over  him,  and  the  rosy  atmosphere  sur- 
rounded him,  and  she  whispered  a  long  story  in 
his  ear  alone.  Nobody  else  ever  heard  one  just 
like  it.  Even  the  padlocked  book  had  never 
known  these  secrets.  Before  she  left  him  she 
had  brought  back  something  like  the  hopeful 
boy-look  into  his  face,  and  the  nice  black  walnut 
planks  and  set  of  carving-tools,  that  came  by  ex- 
press from  the  city  of  X in  a  few  days,  did 

much  toward  keeping  it  there. 

When  she  went  out  of  that  house  her  look  was 
quite  triumphant.  "  Do  you  suppose  I'm  sorry 
now  for  all  those  sick,  weary  days,  and  all  the  mis- 
ery of  that  getting  well,  to  find  myself  as  I  am  ? 
Don't  you  suppose  I'm  thankful  and  proud? 
Why,  what  could  I  have  ever  done  for  this  poor 
little  thing,  if  I  hadn't  been  in  the  very  same 
place  myself?" 

The  young  lady  seemed  to  be  a  little  indig- 
nant, and  to  be  triumphantly  refuting  somebody 
or  some  part  of  somebody,  that  had  once  upon  a 
time  ventured  to  differ  from  these  views. 

It  was  just  about  this  time  that  Miss  Roberts' 
acquaintance  with  one  Mr.  Humphreys,  of  the 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  ify 

law  school  and  also  of  the  mission  Sunday-school, 
was  at  its  height.  This  young  man  had  dark 
brown  hair  and  whiskers,  handsome  blue  eyes, 
and  was  as  graceful  as  a  woman. 

He  dangled  a  white  hand  lazily  with  the  crim- 
son tassel  of  the  sofa  pillow,  and  said  things  that 
sounded  original  in  a  rich  voice.  He  was  not  at 
all  insignificant,  or  a  dandy.  I  have  failed  in  my 
picture  if  I  have  given  that  impression.  He  was 
a  good  scholar,  and  would  be  a  successful  law- 
yer—  a  rising  one,  the  professor  said.  He  was 
energetic,  a  very  good  vice-superintendent  of  the 
Sunday-school,  and  foremost  in  college  enter- 
prises. But  somehow  you  never  would  have 
connected  the  thought  of  anything  heroic  with 
him.  If  Oxford  on  its  seven  hills,  had  suddenly 
fallen  under  a  penalty  to  give  up  its  noblest  and 
most  precious,  nobody  would  have  looked  to 
George  Humphreys  as  the  first  man  to  leap  into 
the  gulf.  Helen  liked  him.  He  talked  well,  and 
was  gentlemanly,  and  his  eyes  were  very  hand- 
some. He  liked  Helen,  as  was  more  and  more 
apparent.  His  calls  became  a  regular  weekly 
occurrence,  and  gradually  lengthened,  till  they 
included  the  entire  evening  and  all  the  other 
calls. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  Oh,  for  Friday  night, 

Friday  at  the  gloamin'! 
Oh,  for  Friday  night, 

Friday  's  lang  o'  comin'!" 


He  said  one  evening,  not  sentimentally,  but  twirl- 
ing the  tassel,  and  with  such  a  look  in  his  eyes  as 
even  a  sensible  girl  does  not  object  to  seeing 
occasionally.  Other  young  men  bowed  them- 
selves away,  but  he  stayed  on  ;  other  groups 
broke  up,  but  over  in  their  corner  these  two 
chatted  and  laughed,  taking  no  note  of  time  some- 
times till  the  last  bell  rang.  They  talked  about 
everything  under  the  sun,  and  certainly  had  some 
capital  times  together.  Dear  Miss  Prescott,  who 
was  as  innocent  as  a  baby  and  as  harmless  as 
doves,  and  who  gave  her  practical  sister  a  deal 
of  trouble  by  her  natural  inability  to  see  the  flir- 
tations that  were  going  on  before  her  face  and 
eyes,  until  they  reached  alarming  proportions, 
this  dear  woman  suddenly  awoke  one  evening  to 
a  sense  of  the  two  people  over  in  the  corner,  and 
went  up  stairs  in  some  anxiety. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  haven't  done  my  duty  to  her, 
dear.  An  orphan  —  Lucy's  child  —  I  ought  to 
have  been  more  careful." 

Miss  Maria,  who,  without  anybody's  suspect- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  iji 

ing  it,  always  saw  everything  that  was  going  on 
in  the  house,  was  prepared  for  this. 

"  Don't  you  be  alarmed,  Deborah.  I  took  a 
good  look  at  that  thing  the  third  evening,  and 
concluded  that  I'd  risk  it.  She  is  younger  in 
these  things  than  some  girls  of  twenty,  but  I'm 
not  afraid  of  her.  It  will  settle  itself  without 
any  managing  ;  and,  if  it  doesn't — you  know  you 
always  approve  of  my  '  treatment.'  A  little  fresh 
air  won't  hurt  it,  anyway.  It's  time  that  pony 
came  up.  What  with  Ida,  and  the  practicing, 
and  the  chemistry  lectures  being  over,  she  doesn't 
get  out  anywhere,  except  in  the  direction  of  the 
mud-turtles." 

"  I  believe  that  is  what  I  want  this  afternoon, 
Miss  Maria,"  said  Helen  one  day,  after  Rufus  had 
been  boarding  at  Mr.  Moore's  a  week,  and  she 
had  had  just  one  little  ride. 

"  Of  course  it  is,  and  there's  that  lonely  Jeru- 
salem road  —  the  mountains  all  about  it,  you 
know  —  that  you've  never  seen.  It  must  be  be- 
ginning to  have  a  little  color  in  it  now.  The 
pony  shall  be  here  at  two  o'clock,  and  don't  you 
let  me  see  your  face  again  till  tea-time." 

Helen  hadn't  had  such  a  ride  for  ever  so  long. 
It  was  considered  perfectly  safe  for  her  to  go 


1 72  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

alone  in  Oxford,  and  there  was  no  ambling  Irish 
boy  behind  to  be  thought  of.  She  said  one  word 
to  Rufus  and  he  went — out  towards  the  moun- 
tains—  on  and  on  —  a  mile  or  two  before  either 
of  them  thought  of  stopping.  Then  they  took 
it  more  deliberately,  and  she  began  to  look  at 
the  great  brown  hills  and  the  clouds  lying  softly 
against  their  rough  cheeks.  There  was  the  faint- 
est tinge  of  tender  green  in  some  of  the  ravines, 
and  a  distant  smell  of  spring  in  the  air.  Helen 
was  quite  as  happy  as  in  those  days  at  the  sea- 
side last  year,  but  how  much  older  she  seemed  to 
herself. 

"  How  wonderful  it  is  !"  she  thought.  "  How 
things  do  open  !  How  one  does  get  on  !  I  won- 
der if  it  is  always  so  !  If  it  is,  I  wonder  people 
are  ever  tired  of  living.  I'm  not  a  bit  afraid. 
It  seems  to  me  nothing  could  ever  quite  terrify 
me  now  ;  I'm  so  sure  things  are  for  the  best,  but 
I'd  really  like  to  know  what  will  happen  next." 

And  then  she  fell  into  that  mood,  which,  per- 
haps, all  of  us  have  had  sometimes,  of  feeling 
sure  that  something  is  going  to  happen  soon. 
Things  have  gone  on  so  long.  They  must  have 
been  for  some  purpose.  They  must  be  working 
out  something  else*  The  clouds  were  rolling 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  ^3 

themselves  up,  their  day's  work  almost  done. 
The  world  was  turning  over.  Her  life  was  mov- 
ing on,  too.  There  would  be  a  to-morrow,  and 
to-morrow  would  be  a  new  day. 

"  I  wonder  what  it  will  be  !  I  wonder  what  I 
should  like  best ! — I  mean,  I  wonder  what  would 
be  best  for  me." 

She  dwelt  on  this  so  long  that  she  almost  ex- 
pected to  find  some  great  change  at  home  —  a 
letter  with  some  great  news,  perhaps.  But  what 
would  be  great  news  to  her?  Nobody  could 
leave  her  a  fortune.  Unless  it  were  a  fortune  of 
brothers  and  sisters,  it  would  be  nothing  to 
her.  Nobody  could  die — unless  —  she  had  never 
thought  of  that  before  —  her  guardian.  As  Ru- 
fus  walked  slowly  down  the  long  street  towards 
Miss  Prescott's,  and  the  clouds  went  on  rolling 
themselves  up  around  the  mountains,  with  tints 
of  purple  and  gold  upon  them  now,  and  the 
world  went  on  turning  over  into  the  twilight, 
these  thoughts  went  on  in  the  young  girl's  mind. 
She  wished  it  were  not  tea-time  and  she  coming 
down  the  hill.  She  had  been  off  alone  —  to  "  the 
land  east  of  the  sun  " — she  didn't  like  to  come 
back  even  to  Oxford.  But  there  was  the  stable- 
boy  waiting,  and  there  was  Professor  Wright 


174  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

going  in  to  tea,  no  —  turning  back  to  speak  to 
her,  and  Rufus  stopped  before  the  gate. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  take  off  my  wings,"  said 
Helen,  out  of  the  fulness  of  her  heart.  Her  eyes 
wandered  off  on  to  the  sunset,  along  the  hills, 
now  blue  and  distant,  across  the  misty  valley, 
finally  back  to  the  professor,  standing  by  her  side. 
He  was  waiting  very  patiently.  Somehow  — 
Helen  very  seldom  thought  of  herself  in  that 
way,  but  it  seemed  to  her  now  that  Professor 
Wright  was  very  sorry  for  her — about  the  wings, 
she  meant. 

"  Nevertheless,  will  you  come,  and  may  I  help 
you,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  sir,  thank  you.  I'll  come"  she  answered, 
brightly,  putting  out  her  arms  towards  him. 

The  professor  lifted  her  down,  quite  cavalierly. 
Nobody  would  have  thought  him  a  particularly 
awkward  man  just  then.  As  they  went  toward 
the  house,  Helen  took  occasion  to  say  something 
lightly  about  the  coming  spring  and  the  length- 
ening days.  She  felt  now,  and  wished  to  show 
that,  though  she  had  lost  her  wings,  she  was  not 
miserable.  But  her  companion  made  no  answer. 
When  they  reached  the  door,  he  fumbled  in  his 
pocket  for  his  key,  put  it  half  way  in,  and  then, 


MISS  ROBERTS  FORTUNE.  175 

*  deliberately  turning  his  back  to  the  door,  looked 
down  at  Helen. 

"  What  were  you  seeing  with  those  eyes  off  in 
the  sunset?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  sir,"  she  began  with  a 
smile,  but  her  face  grew  earnest.  "  Did  you  ever 
have  the  feeling  that  some  great  thing  is  coming 
to  you — that,  somehow  or  other,  you  don't  know 
how  or  why,  life  is  going  to  be  changed  right 
here  and  now,  and  the  to-morrows  will  never  be 
the  humdrum  things  that  the  yesterdays  were?" 

Usually  she  would  have  been  ashamed  to  ex- 
hibit these  foolish  little  notions  to  the  wise  man  ; 
but  to-night,  somehow,  perhaps  that  sorry  look 
in  his  face  had  opened  her  heart. 

"  Yes,  I  have  had  that  feeling,"  he  answered, 
still  looking  gravely  into  her  eyes. 

"  And  did  it  ever  come  true  ?" 

"No." 

He  spoke  almost  sharply,  as  she  had  never 
heard  him  speak  before,  turned  quickly,  pushed 
the  key  into  the  door  and  flung  it  open,  and  they 
went  in  under  the  glaring  hall-light. 

If  any  great  thing  did  come  to  Helen  that 
night,  it  came  very  silently.  The  to-morrow 
went  on  very  like  the  yesterday.  Music  flour- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

ished.  Miss  Maria  was  very  kind.  Miss  Pres- 
cott  was  busy,  but  tender.  In  the  Lessing  read- 
ings Professor  Wright  gave  tremendously  long 
lessons,  and  was  not  quite  so  interesting  as  he 
used  to  be.  Miss  Haas  talked  a  great  deal,  and 
wrote  scores  of  the  learned  treatises,  as  usual. 
On  the  Friday  evenings  Mr.  Humphrey  contin- 
ued to  call,  but  the  calls  became  gradually 
shorter.  His  eyes  were  not  so  very  handsome, 
after  all. 

Ida  came  down  stairs  less  frequently,  at  length 
not  at  all,  till  the  book-cases  were  taken  out  of 
the  little  study  and  a  little  white  bed  put  in  their 
place,  where  she  could  lie  all  day  and  have  music 
from  the  girls'  parlor,  when  she  wished  it.  She 
finished  the  afghan  for  Miss  Prescott,  and  one 
night  put  a  little  pearl  ring  on  Helen's  finger, 
which  you  may  see  there  to-day. 

Mrs.  Manly  came  in  March.  Ida  wrote  for  her 
herself,  on  one  of  her  "  well"  days.  At  last  there 
came  an  April  evening,  when  she  asked  Helen 
to  play  the  "  Slumber  Song."  "  There,  that  will 
do ;  thank  you,  dear,"  she  said,  when  it  was 
done.  "  Now  come  and  kiss  me.  Good-night ;  for 
I  am  very  tired." 

"Say  not  good-night,   but  in   some   happier 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  177 

clime  bid  me  good-morning',"  thought  Helen. 
The  words  had  been  in  her  mind  all  day,  and  she 
whispered  them  to  Ida  softly,  though,  perhaps, 
neither  of  the  girls  thought  that  that  was  the  last 
good-night.  In  the  morning, — Helen  tried  to 
think  of  the  "  happier  clime"  and  smile ;  but  in 
that  room  it  was  so  strange  and  still ! 


"  The  sweet  season,  that  bud  and  bloom  forth  brings 
With  green  hath  clad  the  hills  and  eke  the  vale  ; 
The  nightingale  with  feathers  new  she  sings  ; 
The  turtle  to  his  mate  hath  told  her  tale." 


CHAPTER    VII. 

OD  Almighty  first  planted  a  garden,  and, 
indeed,  it  is  the  purest  of  human  pleas- 
ures," said  the  good  professor,  one  day,  though 
he  was  not  given  to  quoting  Lord  Bacon  or  any- 
body else. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  summer  term  now, 
and  the  German  readers  sometimes  graduated 
from  Lessing,  and  deep  in  Wilhelm  Meister,  sat 
in  the  summer-house  back  of  the  hemlocks,  while 
Miss  Maria,  near  by,  in  gardening  hat  and  gloves, 
bent  over  her  pansy-bed. 

"Ah,  that  reminds  me,  professor,"  said  Miss 
Haas,  "  I  am  looking  for  some  specimens  of  the 
acroclinium  pectinatum.  Have  you  any  in  your 
garden  ?" 

"  Come  up  and  see,"  answered  the  professor, 
in  cheerful  tones.  "  There  are  white  lilies,  too," 
he  added,  turning  to  the  other  member  of  his 
class,  who,  having  taken  in  his  sentiment  differ- 
ently, at  the  other  end,  so  to  speak,  was  wonder- 

(181) 


1 82  JJ/7SS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

ing  how  anybody  could  be  reminded  of  such  an 
ugly  name  by  such  a  pretty  saying.  "And  there 
are  my  sunsets  which  you  have  never  come  to 
see  yet.  I  shall  expect  you  both  —  when?  to- 
morrow ?" 

The  good  man  was  in  one  of  his  kindliest 
moods  to-day,  though,  to  say  the  truth,  the 
kindly  moods  seemed  to  be  upon  him  almost 
every  day  now. 

The  summer  seemed  to  come  very  near  to  his 
heart.  He  actually  seemed  to  take  a  personal 
delight  in  the  bursting  of  every  bud  and  the 
coloring  of  every  flower. 

Helen  looked  at  him  sometimes,  as  the  three 
sat  in  the  summer-house  (they  had  all  their  les- 
sons there  now)  and  thought  that,  with  all  his 
calm  gravity,  he  was  the  most  simple,  light- 
hearted  person  she  ever  saw. 

There  is  a  wonderful  child-likeness  and  sim- 
plicity in  the  heart  of  a  good  man  when  he  is 
happy ;  something  quite  different  from  what  is 
to  be  found  in  the  heart  of  the  purest  woman. 
The  young  girl,  not  accustomed  to  observing 
men,  speculated  on  this  sometimes.  "  Why  is  it, 
I  wonder  ?  Does  all  the  man's  wisdom  lie  in  his 
head,  all  the  woman's  in  her  heart  ?  She  pon- 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  i  g  3 

ders  deep  things  in  her  heart,  he  thinks  them 
with  his  head,  and  gives  up  his  heart  with  sim- 
ple sincerity  to  the  joys  that  God  sends  it  ?" 

You  see  Helen  was  very  far  from  being  an 
"  advanced  thinker "  on  the  woman  question. 
But  then  she  was  only  a  foolish,  honest  young 
girl,  and  had  known  very  few  men,  and  those 
were  good  ones. 

The  next  day  it  rained,  but  on  Friday  after- 
noon, as  the  old  college  bell  was  lazily  turning 
over  in  its  tower  and  tolling  out  five,  two  ladies 
stood  at  the  door  of  Professor  Wright's  house  on 
the  hill. 

It  was  a  square,  white  house,  like  all  the  Ox- 
ford houses,  standing  modestly  and  contentedly 
back  of  its  elm-trees.  The  professor  opened  the 
door  himself,  and  took  them  in  through  a  spa- 
cious, empty,  oil-clothed  hall,  with  stairs  in  the 
distance,  to  a  large  front  room.  Here  there  was 
a  carpet  of  melancholy  hue,  a  few  plain  chairs 
and  a  table,  the  property  of  the  librarian's  family 
to  whom  Professor  Wright  rented  the  greater 
part  of  his  house,  "  for  the  present,"  Mrs.  Haas 
said.  To  this  family  also  belonged  the  baby-car- 
riage they  had  seen  in  the  yard,  and  the  three 
children  tumbling  over  each  other  on  the  grass. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

11 1  want  you  to  see  the  view  from  this  window. 
It  is  a  little  different  from  any  we  shall  get  up- 
stairs, and  then,  when  you  are  cool  and  rested, 
we  will  attend  to  the  botany."  So  presently, 
with  a  couple  of  camp-chairs  strung  across  his 
arm,  the  host  preceded  them  through  the  hall, 
out  at  the  back  door,  and  under  the  apple-trees 
into  the  garden. 

It  was  a  large,  old-fashioned  garden,  and  old- 
fashioned  flowers  growing  in  it;  rows  of  tall 
hollyhocks  against  the  side  fence,  purple  phlox 
and  passion  flower,  and  more  white  lilies  than 
Helen  had  ever  seen  together  before.  It  had  a 
neat,  well -tilled  look,  the  result  of  one  of  the 
wise  man's  mottoes :  "  Rest  is  doing  something 
different."  Where  the  garden  ended,  a  fragrant, 
grassy  field  began  and  sloped  off  toward  the 
river  and  the  hills. 

The  professor,  well  pleased  with  the  lively 
admiration  of  his  guests,  put  down  the  camp- 
chairs  in  a  shady,  breezy  spot.  Helen  took 
her's,  but  Miss  Haas  was  interested  in  a  rare 
specimen  of  beetle,  just  then  disporting  itself  on 
the  path. 

Professor  Wright  provided  her  with  various 
sticks  and  poking  appliances,  and  stood  by  her 


MISS  ROBER  TS  FOR  TUNE.  j  3  5 

for  a  moment,  and  then,  stepping  in  among  the 
rows  of  queenly  lilies,  broke  off  a  richly-laden 
stalk,  which  he  brought  to  Helen.  It  was  like 
those  the  Madonnas  carry  in  the  old  pictures. 
"  Bear  a  lily  in  thy  hand,  Gates  of  brass  shall 
not  withstand,  One  touch  of  that  magic  wand," 
he  said,  and  his  voice  grew  so  kind  and  serious 
that  Helen  took  the  flowers,  as  she  would  have 
taken  a  crown,  and,  without  speaking,  looked 
deep  down  into  the  heart  of  the  largest  and 
fairest  of  them  all.  The  good  man,  standing  up 
over  her,  seemed  to  read  her  thought  and  ex- 
pressed it  for  her.  "  I  think  one  can  never  look 
lightly  on  a  lily,  when  one  remembers  who  it 
was  that  said  of  them,  '  Consider.' '  Then,  after 
a  little  quiet — "  Now,  will  you  go  down  the  gar- 
den (I'm  afraid  there  is  n't  much  to  see)  and  help 
in  the  search  for  the  acroclinium,  et  ceteras,  or 
will  you  stay  here  with  the  lilies  ?" 

Helen  preferred  to  stay. 

"  There  they  go,  like  Adam  and  Eve,"  she 
thought,  as  the  black  coat  and  the  light-blue 
dress  went  down  the  walk.  "  But,  oh,  how  nice 
this  is  here,  under  the  trees.  And  what  a  famous, 
old-fashioned  house.  Why,  it  might  be  made 
charming — those  four  square  rooms  and  the 


1 86  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

great  hall  with  the  recesses  in  it.  Some  people, 
Miss  Maria,  for  instance,  would  make  it  lovely. 
But,  dear  me,  Miss  Haas  will  sculp  on  the  front 
door-step,  and  have  a  row  of  dictionaries  across 
the  parlor  floor.  I  wonder — I  can't  help  wonder- 
ing sometimes,  and  I'm  going  to  Miss  Roberts, 
for  once,  you  need  n't  stop  me — I  do  wonder  that 
good,  rare  man  did  n't  choose  a  different  sort  of 
woman  to  be  his  wife,  somebody  like  Miss  Maria, 
free  and  simple.  He  is  so  simple  himself.  But 
then,  as  Mrs.  Haas  says,  '  Theo's  intellect !'  Yes, 
to  be  sure,  '  Theo's  intellect.'  The  acroclinium 
pectinatum  did  not  prove  to  be  a  product  of  the 
professor's  garden,  but  Miss  Haas  was  apparently 
just  as  well  satisfied  with  a  long  switch  of  the 
diacophyllium  capitalum  with  which  she  gesticu- 
lated, and  on  which  she  descanted,  as  she  came 
up  the  path. 

They  sat  a  little  while  under  the  apple-trees 
talking,  or  hearing  Miss  Haas  talk.  Helen  no- 
ticed that  the  professor  had  given  this  lady  no 
flowers.  "  I  suppose  he  knows  she  does  n't  care 
about  them,"  she  concluded  ;  "and  his  politeness 
is  of  the  kind  that  does  just  the  thing  that  is 
most  pleasant  to  every  one." 

The  study  up-stairs  was  built  of  books.     There 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

were  books  on  this  side,  books  on  that  side, 
books  at  the  ends  coming  close  to  the  windows, 
and  in  the  middle  a  double  row  of  books  reach- 
ing- nearly  to  the  ceiling,  and  forming  a  complete 
partition,  so  far  as  it  extended  between  the  two 
halves  of  the  room.  It  looked  like  the  library 
of  an  older  and  richer  man  than  Professor  Wright 
was  supposed  to  be,  and  he  presently  explained, 
a  little  apologetically  (for  if  the  good  man  had 
a  fault  it  was  that  pride  of  being  poor,  to  which 
men  whose  fortune  consists  in  brains  are  liable,) 
that  he  had  availed  himself  of  a  very  favorable 
opportunity  to  purchase  the  stock  in  trade  of  his 
predecessor  in  office. 

Miss  Haas  was  at  once  swallowed  up  in  a 
huge  old  volume  of  Pliny.  Helen,  who,  though 
not  precisely  of  a  domestic  turn  of  mind,  had, 
nevertheless,  an  eye  for  household  arrangements, 
observed  with  satisfaction  that  there  was  a  pretty 
dark  green  carpet  on  the  floor,  and  further  sur- 
veyed the  apartment,  while  the  professor,  on  hos- 
pitable thoughts  intent,  sought  out  his  rarer  and 
more  interesting  books  to  show  her. 

This  middle  wall  of  books,  whatever  might 
have  been  its  first  impression  on  the  beholder, 
had  the  effect  of  adding  to  the  coziness  of  each 


!88  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

particular  division.  On  the  one  side,  before  the 
window  (and  facing-  it,)  stood  a  black  lounge, 
with  the  greenish  -  gray  shawl  thrown  over  its 
arm.  A  Claude  Lorraine  glass  hung  in  this  win- 
dow, the  only  object  of  an  ornamental  nature  to 
be  seen  in  the  whole  apartment,  unless  a  small 
map  of  Palestine  pinned  to  the  door  might  come 
under  that  head.  "  But  this  is  the  living-room, 
evidently,"  thought  Helen,  following  the  host 
into  the  other  compartment.  Here  was  the 
study-table  before  the  open  window.  Above  it 
hung  Jimmy,  the  mocking  bird,  singing  with  all 
his  might,  and  in  at  the  window  came  all  the 
sweet  airs  and  sounds  of  the  summer  afternoon. 

"  Oh,  what  a  window  !  I  almost  think  /could 
write  a  sermon  here,"  and  Helen  looked  off  with 
wistful  eyes,  across  the  green,  peaceful  fields  to 
the  hills. 

"  I  don't  doubt  it.  Sit  down  here  and  take  it 
all  in,"  said  the  professor. 

Helen  hesitated.  She  was  a  national  little 
maiden.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  was  not  the 
one  to  sit  down  first  at  that  study-table.  Then 
she  felt  a  little  awe  of  the  place.  That  was 
where  those  words  were  written,  and  those 
thoughts  thought.  She  glanced  towards  Miss 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  1 89 

Haas,  who,  sitting  on  the  end  of  the  lounge,  was 
visible  from  this  point,  but  that  lady  was  turn- 
ing over  a  fresh  page  in  her  big  book,  and  the 
professor  was  waiting,  a  little  gravely,  she 
thought.  So  she  sat  down  in  the  stiff  leather 
chair,  and  the  tall  man,  bending  over  her,  point- 
ed out  the  notable  peaks  in  the  distant  moun- 
tains, and  then,  bringing  a  field-glass  from  an- 
other room,  showed  where  the  little  white 
villages  nestled  in  the  nearer  hills.  There  is 
nothing  on  earth  sweeter  than  that  Oxford  view. 
There  are  no  hills  that  gather  softer  shadows  in 
the  long  summer  afternoons,  there  are  no  mead- 
ows that  lie  in  purer  sunlight,  there  is  no  river 
that  carries  more  peace  in  its  broad  course. 
Helen  looked  till  that  sigh  that  sometimes  comes 
from  very  comfort  broke  from  her  lips. 

"  Sweet  fields  arrayed  in  living  green 
And  rivers  of  delight," 

she  said,  softly,  half  to  herself. 

"  Yes,  those  words  come  to  my  mind  often — 
and  there's  an  infinite  rest  in  them,"  said  the 
quiet  voice  at  her  side. 

"  And  we  stayed  there  all  the  evening !"  says 
the  padlocked  book,  under  date  of  the  next  day, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  till  the  moonlight  came !  When  the  clock 
struck  six  and  we  spoke  of  going  home,  the  pro- 
fessor, that  professor  informed  us,  pointing  to 
the  west,  that  the  panorama  did  not  begin  to 
move  till  precisely  half-past  seven  o'clock,  and 
that  he  had  told  Miss  Maria  we  should  not  be 
home  to  tea.  That  man  had  actually  got  up 
(over  in  the  corner,  where  nobody  thought  of 
looking  till  the  right  time),  the  funniest,  mascu- 
linest,  j oiliest  little  spread.  There  were  straw- 
berries, and  bananas,  and  confectioner's  crack- 
ers (no  bread,  and  a  very  remarkable  collection 
of  crockery),  and  the  librarian's  wife  sent  up 
coffee,  which  a  small  girl  handed  around  in  great 
style.  Only  Miss  Haas  would  discourse  on  its 
being  bad  for  our  constitutions,  and  when  Jimmy 
sang  loudest  (Jimmy  is  a  pretty,  brown,  merry 
little  thing,  and  I  gave  him  a  strawberry),  she 
put  her  fingers  in  her  ears.  The  sunset — I  shall 
never  forget  .it,  I  think,  and  it  was  sweet  to  see 
the  moonlight  steal  over  those  fields. 

"  I  wrote  my  name  on  the  fly-leaf  (the  one  at 
the  end)  of  Professor  Wright's  Greek  Testament. 
He  asked  me  to,  and  looked  very  serious  about 
it,  and  afraid  I  would  n't  be  willing  to  do  it.  He 
said  that  sometimes  when  people  visited  obser- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  igi 

vatories  or  strange  places — once  in  a  life-time, 
perhaps — they  left  their  names  recorded,  and  he 
would  like  to  keep  mine." 

A  person  interested  in  the  progress  of  the  arts 
and  sciences,  or  a  painter  in  search  of  a  subject, 
would  have  gazed  with  pleasure  on  the  scene 
presented  in  Helen's  room  on  Saturday  after- 
noon of  this  same  week. 

At  the  round  table  sat  Miss  Haas,  her  eyes 
gleaming  with  pride,  her  dress  streaked  with 
acids,  and  before  her  fumed,  and  boiled,  and  bub- 
bled an  immense  shallow  vessel  full  of  water 
which  was  being  rapidly  decomposed  by  means 
of  a  galvanic  battery.  Vile  odors  issued  from 
the  seething  mass,  but  the  presiding  vestal  was 
happily  unconscious  of  them.  This  battery  was 
the  work  of  her  own  hands,  and  this  was  her 
first  experiment.  Since  the  chemical  lectures  on 
the  hill  had  been  given  up,  Miss  Haas  had  de- 
voted herself  to  the  science,  probably  to  the 
great  edification  of  her  large  class  of  younger 
pupils,  but  much  to  the  discomfort  of  her  room- 
mate, who,  in  the  multitude  of  bottles,  and  re- 
torts, and  loathsome  messes  set  away  to  fume  in 
secret  or  "precipitate"  at  leisure,  was  almost 
afraid  to  water  her  ivy  or  to  clean  her  teeth,  lest 


192 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


she  should  be  making  use  of  some  powerful  acid 
or  deadly  poison.  The  battery  and  the  experi- 
ment, however,  were  not  the  whole  of  the  picture. 

Opposite  Miss  Haas  sat  little  Mary  Mitchell, 
taking  a  drawing  lesson.  Her  yellow  braids 
hung  dejectedly  down  her  shoulders,  and  her 
poor  little  nose  was  screwed  into  a  most  unclassic 
shape,  by  reason  of  the  odors  aforesaid,  but  she 
worked  away  bravely. 

"  A  little  more  shading  there,  my  dear.  Ah ! 
you  have  finished  the  chimney.  This  is  the  way 
to  do  the  roof,  child,"  and  the  woman  of  a  thous- 
and and  one  accomplishments  reached  across  the 
table  and  gave  two  or  three  decided  strokes  in 
the  deficient  quarter.  Nor  was  this  all.  On 
Miss  Haas'  knee  lay  a  volume  of  Italian  poems 
which  she  had  drawn  to-day  from  the  library, 
and,  occupying  the  little  remaining  space  on  the 
table,  was  an  open  lexicon.  And  that  all  her  va- 
ried powers  might  have  still  more  play,  this  wo- 
man of  women  held  in  her  respective  hands  a 
little  block  of  holly-wood,  and  a  penknife  (she 
was  learning  wood-carving),  and  gave  an  occa- 
sional touch  to  the  somewhat  remarkable  little 

animal  that  was  destined  to  form  the  handle  to  a 
paper-cutter. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  193 

Helen,  at  as  great  a  distance  as  possible  from 
the  odors,  in  the  rocking-chair,  by  the  window, 
was  in  a  most  unusual  state  of  hilarity,  conse- 
quent partly  on  the  performances  at  the  round- 
table,  and  partly  on  the  volume  of  "  Pickwick" 

in  her  hand. 

"Is   it   so  very  amusing,  my  dear?     I  never 

heard  you  laugh  so." 

This  was  when,  at  one  fearful  splutter  and  gasp 
of  the  expiring  liquid,  Miss  Haas  laid  down  her 
knife,  shut  her  book,  and  rose  with  a  determined 
countenance  to  face  the  battery. 

"  Yes'm,  you've  no  idea  how  funny  it  is,"  said 
Helen,  forgiving  herself  for  the  double  entendre,  on 
the  ground  that  nobody  saw  it  but  herself.  "  But 
there — I  must  put  this  up,  and  see  about  that 
carriage.  It  is  almost  four  o'clock." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  my  dear?" 

"  I  am  going  to  call  on  Mrs.  Mulligan,  Miss 
Haas." 

"Why  do  you  go  to-day,  dear?  It  is  so 
warm." 

"  Chiefly  because  I  don't  want  to,"  said  Helen  ; 
but  this  was  in  a  very  low  voice  to  herself,  as  she 
went  out  of  the  room. 

It  appeared,  on  inquiry,  that  Miss  Prescott  was 
9 


194  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

using  the  carriage  then,  but  would  be  home  at 
four  o'clock. 

Helen,  therefore,  with  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his 
friends,  betook  herself  to  the  seat  under  the  elm- 
tree,  to  wait  for  Miss  Prescott,  and  to  intercept 
the  stable-boy  who  should  come  to  take  the  car- 
riage home.  Miss  Prescott,  always  prompt,  soon 
appeared,  and  Helen  took  her  place. 

Ida's  afghan  lay  over  the  seat.  "  Keep  it," 
said  Miss  Prescott,  as  Helen  would  have  handed 
it  to  her ;  "  keep  it,  dear.  I  like  to  have  it  with 
you,"  and  she  laid  her  gentle  hand  for  a  moment 
over  Helen's. 

Mrs.  Mulligan  was  at  home,  and  received,  this 
afternoon,  in  a  large-figured  red  and  yellow  dress 
and  a  very  ruffly  cap.  Jimmy  Ross  was  at  home, 

• 

too,  (poor  fellow,  there  was  all  too  little  chance 
of  finding  him  anywhere  else  at  present,)  but  his 
face  was  brighter  than  Helen  had  ever  seen  it 
when  he  told  her  of  the  bracket  he  had  sold  last 
week  for  three  dollars,  and  of  the  order  for  an- 
other like  it  he  had  just  received. 

"  I've  a  great  mind  not  to  go  anywhere  else  to- 
day," thought  Helen,  coming  away  from  Jim- 
my's. "  There's  that  new  boy,  I  ought  to  go  to 
see  him,  I  suppose,  but  I  don't  feel  like  it.  I 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE:  ig^ 

can't  talk  good  to-day.  I  believe  I  won't  go. 
Yes,  I  will !" 

The  new  boy  lived  in  an  old  street,  the  oldest 
and  poorest  Helen  had  seen  in  Oxford.  Little, 
low  cramped  houses,  with  bare  and  sometimes 
filthy  door-yards,  and  sometimes  none  at  all,  hud- 
dled together,  close  and  hot.  At  last  she  knocked 
at  the  door  of  the  last  in  the  line,  "  on  the  corner 
by  the  old  grave-yard,"  as  the  boy  had  told  her. 
As  she  stood  at  the  door,  a  crowd  of  dirty,  mis- 
erable children  swarmed  about  the  horse  and 
carriage,  and  Helen  bethought  herself  to  take  the 
precious  afghan  on  her  arm,  before  she  went  in. 

"Come  in,  miss,"  said  the  feeble,  anxious, 
wretched-looking  woman  who  opened  the  door 
of  the  little  upper  room.  "  Johnny's  near  about. 
He'll  be  in  soon,  I  think." 

It  was  a  very  small  room,  and  in  it  were  a 
cooking-stove,  a  bed,  a  table,  a  lounge,  and  sev- 
eral chairs.  Only  one  window,  and  that  shut. 
The  thermometer  would  have  stood  above  90°. 
A  man  lay  in  the  bed,  his  head  near  the  stove, 
and  a  heavy  quilt  over  him.  Two  or  three  very 
young  and  sickly-looking  children  toddled  about, 
and  the  woman  feebly  held  another  baby  to  her 
bosom.  It  was  hard  to  talk  "good"  here.  Helen 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

thought  of  Mrs.  Pardiggle  at  the  brick-maker's, 
and  refrained  from  any  but  general  observations 
at  first. 

But  the  new  boy  soon  came  in.  She  had 
liked  the  open-faced,  red-haired,  plucky  little 
fellow  last  Sabbath,  and  found  a  good  deal  to  say 
to  him  now.  She  was  always  afterwards  thank- 
ful for  that  quiet  little  talk  in  the  corner. 
1  While  she  was  talking,  the  mother  was  busy 
about  the  stove,  and  the  children  played  around 
the  strange  lady,  looking  with  wonder  at  the 
shining  bracelets,  and  the  roses  on  her  hat,  and 
the  wonderful  bright  thing  she  held  loosely  in 
her  lap.  After  awhile,  turning  around,  she  found 
that  they  had  taken  the  afghan  away.  They  had 
carried  it  off  to  the  bed,  and  were  making  a  tent 
of  it  over  the  sick  man's  head. 

"  Is  your  father  very  sick  ?"  asked  Helen,  after 
Johnny,  by  various  wiles  and  devices,  had  suc- 
ceeded in  recovering  the  purloined  property. 

"  I  wish  you'd  come  and  see  what  you  think  of 
him,  miss,"  said  the  woman. 

The  spirit  of  daintiness  within  her  demurred 
— and,  then,  she  knew  so  little  about  illness.  But 
it  touched  her,  to  have  this  poor  woman  asking 
such  a  thing  of  her,  and  Johnny  was  looking  on. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

She  took  the  chair  they  placed  for  her,  near  the 
bed  and  very  near  the  stove. 

The  man  had  a  gruff  voice,  and,  besides,  was 
evidently  too  ill  to  talk.  Helen  asked  if  they 
had  called  a  doctor,  and  they  pointed  to  a  row 
of  bottles  on  the  table. 

"  Come  again,  Miss,"  said  the  woman,  follow- 
ing Helen  to  the  door.  "I'm  so  troubled  about 
my  man  that  I  cannot  hardly  speak  to  nobody 
to-day.  The  doctor  thought  belike  it  was  the 
small-pox.  There's  a  deal  of  it  about.  Old 
Tommy  Carew  died  of  it  last  night,  and  there's 
two  took  sick  to-day  just  around  the  corner.'' 

Helen  said  good-bye  and  shut  the  door.  She 
was"  not  of  a  temperament  to  be  easily  frightened. 
Her  heart  did  not  flutter  and  she  did  not  grow 
pale,  but  she  sat  right  down  on  the  stairs  (there 
was  nobody  near)  with  a  serious  face. 

"  One  thing  is  certain,  I've  been  pretty  thor- 
oughly exposed.  If  this  is  the  disease,  I  may 
carry  it  to  other  people.  And  this  afghan  —  it 
has  been  all  over  the  man's  bed.  What  must  I 
do  ?  I  shall  have  to  get  to  a  doctor  just  as  soon 
as  possible,  and  have  him  tell  me  what  to  do.  I 
mustn't  see  anybody  first.  I'll  go  right  away." 

She  carried  the  afghan  loosely  on  her  arm.     It 


1 98  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

was  heavy,  and  began  to  drag,  and  just  at  the 
gate  caught  in  something,  and  fell  from  her 
hands.  At  the  same  instant  a  quick  step  came 
along  the  walk,  and  Professor  Wright  was  before 
her.  He  stooped  and  took  up  the  afghan  before 
she  had  time  to  speak  a  word. 

"  Oh,  Professor  Wright,  please  don't !" 
The  bewildered  man  only  drew  it  closer,  and 
threw  it  over  his  shoulder. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  Can  I  help  you  ?" 
She  told  him  quickly,  and  begged  him  to  go 
away.  The  smile  that  came  over  his  face  was 
his  only  answer,  but  it  said  a  great  deal.  It  did 
not  put  her  away  and  resist  her  thoughtfulness  ; 
it  was  too  kind  for  that.  It  did  not  laugh  at  her 
fears  ;  it  was  too  grave  for  that.  But  it  said,  as 
no  words  could  have  said,  how  very  absurd  and 
quite  out  of  the  question  that  "  going  away  " 
was,  and  it  brought  such  a  wonderful  sense  of 
strength,  and  safety,  and  being  taken  care  of,  as 
Helen  had  never  had  in  her  life  before. 

"  Let  us  come  to  the  carriage.  We  can  talk 
more  easily  there." 

The  good  man  did  not  say,  as  he  sat  down  by 
her  side  and  took  the  reins  in  his  hand,  that  he 
was  glad  he  happened  (he  would  not  have  said 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


199 


happened)  to  be  coming  along  the  street  just 
then,  but  Helen  felt  almost  as'  sure  of  it  as  she 
did  of  her  own  relief  and  comfort. 

"  First,  about  the  man.  Is  he  suffering  ?  Does 
he  need  anything  at  this  moment  ?" 

"  I  think  not.  He  seemed  to  have  remedies, 
but  no  comforts  —  and  that  dreadful  cooking- 
stove.  They  had  had  Dr. ." 

"  Perhaps  we  can  get  him  taken  to  the  hospi- 
tal. We  will  see,"  and  to  Helen's  great  relief  he 
chuckled  to  the  horse,  and  they  started  off  at  a 
gentle  trot.  She  had  been  very  much  afraid  that 
he  meant  to  go  in. 

"And  now  " — he  said,  after  they  had  gone  a 
little  way,  turning  to  her  with  something  of  the 
smile  again.  So  she  told  the  story. 

"  I  thought  I  ought  to  go  to  a  doctor  and  find 
out  what  to  do,"  she  said  in  "conclusion. 

"  You  were  right." 

Helen  noticed  now  that  they  had  already 
turned  into  Dr.  Wood's  street. 

"  I  should  have  more  doubt  as  to  the  disease, 
if  I  had  not  learned  since  I  left  home  this  after- 
noon, that  it  has  broken  out  with  some  violence 
in  this  very  quarter  of  town.  Taking  it  for 
granted  that  this  is  a  case  of  it,  I  do  not  know 


200  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

* 

how  much  danger  there  is  in  such  an  exposure. 
I  am  inclined  to  think  there  is  little,  but  I  may 
be  wrong.  We  can  only  do  what  we  can,  and 
wait." 

"  If  only  I  could  have  got  home  without  see- 
ing you.  If  only  you  hadn't  taken  up  that  af- 

ghan,  Professor  Wright !"  said  Helen,  with  a  re- 

» 
turn  of  her  first  anxiety. 

The  professor  turned  to  her  suddenly,  and  laid 
his  broad  hand  over  her  two  little  ones,  and 
looked  into  her  face. 

"  My  little  child,  it  would  be  impossible  for  me 
to  tell  you  how  much  rather,  if  this  thing  comes 
to  either  of  us,  I  would  have  it  come  to  me,"  he 
said  slowly,  and  in  a  deep  voice.  "  But  that  we 
cannot  regulate,"  he  added  presently,  in  his  usual 
manner.  "  That  is  not  for  us  to  know.  Only  we 
are  always  sure  that,  however  it  comes,  it  is  right." 

There  is  nothing  like  a  cheerful  mind  to  keep 
off  disease,  and  there  is  nothing  that  so  tends 
to  a  cheerful  mind,  as  looking  the  whole  truth 
bravely  in  the  face.  These  two  people  drove  up 
to  the  doctor's  as  if  they  were  out  on  a  pleasure 
drive,  and  sat  half  an  hour  waiting  in  the  office, 
talking  of  everything  but  the  errand  that  brought 
them  there. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  2OI 

The  doctor,  as  is  the  manner  of  doctors,  said 
what  he  had  to  say  in  few  words. 

"  No  doubt  about  the  disease.  I've  been  there 
since  you  left.  Didn't  shake  hands  with  him  or 
touch  him  ?  That's  right.  Well,  there's  about 
one  chance  in  ten  that  you've  taken  away  some- 
thing of  it  —  not  much  more.  Take  off  all  your  * 
clothes  and  have  them  thoroughly  aired,  and  take 
a  thorough  bath." 

He  held  Helen's  hand  for  a  moment,  and  look- 
ed at  her  tongue.  Her  delicate  face  and  figure 
always  made  people  a  little  afraid  of  her. 

"  Umph  !  Seem  to  be  in  a  healthy  condition. 
Very  little  danger.  But  if  you  have,  either  of 
you,  even  a  headache  in  the  course  of  a  fortnight, 
let  me  know." 

They  managed  the  getting  home  nicely.  The 
professor  hailed  a  convenient  small  boy,  and 
Helen  sent  in  by  him  a  hast}''  note  to  Miss 
Maria. 

Miss  Maria's  part  of  the  work  was  the  hardest, 
but  one  of  her  happy  thoughts  came  to  her,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  Miss  Haas  received  an  urgent 
invitation  to  take  tea  at  a  neighbor's  house,  and 
play  for  some  young  visitors.  So,  when  they 
drew  up  at  the  gate  again  after  an  hour's  drive 
9* 


202  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

around  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  the  small  boy 
was  waiting  with  another  note,  which  read  thus : 
"  All  right !  Come  home,  dear  child  !  I'll  do  as 
you  bid,  and  keep  away,  unless  you  ring  the  bell. 
If  you  need  anything,  ring,  and  nobody  else  shall 
come." 

Helen  found  the  halls  empty  and  the  chemicals 
fizzing  away  alone  in  her  room,  and  Miss  Maria, 
true  to  her  word,  made  no  attempt  to  see  her 
till  she  came  down,  fresh  and  sweet,  in  a  white 
dress  and  lilac  ribbons,  to  tea.  Then  the  dear 
woman  caught  her  under  the  stairs  and  kissed 
her  fervently.  The  evening  went  pleasantly. 
The  professor  stayed  long  (though  nobody  spoke 
of  music),  and  if  he  missed  Miss  Haas,  her  mo- 
ther certainly  did  her  best  to  make  good  the 
loss.  Helen  went  to  sleep  as  lightly  as  a  child, 
and  in  her  evening-prayer  forgot  to  say  anything 
about  the  danger  she  had  been  in,  so  many  other 
things  came  into  her  heart  to  say.  Love,  friends, 
care — these  were  the  things  her  heart  had  always 
cried  for.  When  they  came,  was  she  not  to  be 
thankful  for  them  ?  And  for  such  friends,  were 
there  not  some  things  she  might  ask  ? 

On  Monday  morning  the  paper  announced  that 
varioloid  of  a  malignant  type,  had  broken  out  in 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  203 

the  west  district.  The  next  day  the  man  whom 
Helen  had  seen,  died  ;  and  before  the  week  closed 
the  open-faced,  red-haired  boy  lay  in  his  little 
grave.  The  mother  and  the  sickly  babies  were 
left.  The  doctors  divided  the  district  between 
them,  and  would  let  no  one  else  visit  the  suffer- 
ers. In  a  fortnight  the  mortality  was  said  to  be 
decreasing. 

On  the  hill,  the  two  weeks  passed  a  little  slowly, 
but  not  anxiously.  Helen  found  herself  looking 
over  her  little  effects,  and  putting  them  in  order, 
but  she  was  almost  singing  as  she  did  it.  She 
felt  a  little  sudden  pang  of  concern  occasionally 
as  she  looked  at  the  good  professor,  but  his 
strong,  manly  frame,  and  his  cheerful  manner 
(he  had  never  seemed  more  cheerful  than  now) 
quickly  drove  all  boding  thoughts  away. 

Nevertheless,  coming  up  one  evening,  after  a 
long,  pleasant  sing,  she  was  conscious  of  a  strong 
and  thankful  sense  of  relief  when  she  remember- 
ed that  it  was  two  weeks  and  a  day  since  that 
call  in  the  west  district. 

The  next  morning,  the  professor  did  not  come 
to  breakfast.  The  librarian's  little  girl,  whom 
Miss  Maria  met  in  the  street,  said  he  had  a  head- 
ache, but  that  he  told  her  mother  he  thought  he 


204  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

should  be  out  by  dinner  time.  But  he  did  not 
come  to  dinner. 

"  I'm  going  up  to  see  about  it,"  said  Miss  Maria 
to  herself,  that  afternoon.  She  did  not  say  any- 
thing to  Miss  Prescott,  for  that  Saturday  after- 
noon's adventure  had  never  been  mentioned  be- 
yond the  original  circle,  and,  it  might  be,  this 
would  amount  to  nothing.  "  But  it  will  do  no 
harm  to  know,  whatever  it  is,  and  that  poor  child 
is  as  pale  as  if  she  had  committed  a  murder." 

Miss  Maria  went,  but  the  professor  could  not 
see  her.  The  librarian's  wife  said  that  he  had 
remained  in  his  room  all  day,  and  that  this  after- 
noon a  boy  had  come  (from  the  west  district)  "  to 
stay  with  him  a  few  days,"  the  professor  said. 
The  boy  brought  the  messages  to  his  door,  and 
delivered  them  to  the  librarian's  wife,  and  she 
brought  them  to  Miss  Maria. 

The  professor  declared  himself  to  be  as  cheer- 
ful as  possible,  and  very  comfortable,  not  at  all 
sure  that  this  was  what  they  feared,  but  inclined 
to  think  it  best  to  shut  himself  up  for  a  few  days. 
And  he  desired  his  very  best  regards  to  all  at 
Miss  Prescott's.  The  doctor  had  called  once, 
and  was  coming  again,  the  lady  said. 

Miss  Maria  walked  home  briskly,  and,  like  the 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  20$ 

blessed  little  woman  that  she  was,  came  right  to 
Helen's  room  (Miss  Haas  was  practicing)  and 
told  her  all  about  it.  "  I  thought  I  would  take 
the  carriage  and  just  drive  around  to  see  the 
doctor,"  she  said.  "  Would  you  like  to  go  with 
me?" 

The  doctor  was  not  in.  It  was  nearly  tea- 
time,  and  they  dro.ve  home,  Helen  still  a  little 
pale,  but  a  good  deal  brighter  for  the  drive. 

After  tea,  Miss  Maria  went  again  to  the  doc- 
tor's. Helen  sat  with  Miss  Prescott,  listening  to 
a  gentle,  gossippy  account  of  Oxford  in  the  old 
times  when  her  father  was  professor,  and  then 
played  a  little  for  Miss  Haas,  who  was  missing 
the  "  dear  professor"  sadly,  and  then  (Miss  Maria 
was  gone  so  long)  went  up  stairs  to  try  to  find 
something  to  read.  She  was  still  searching 
(though  there  were  Charles  Lamb  and  Browning 
and  "  Hymns  and  Meditations,"  and  the  unfinish- 
ed "  Pickwick,"  and  many  other  favorites  on  the 
table)  when  Miss  Maria  came  in.  She  sat  down 
by  Helen's  side  and  took  off  her  hat.  "  Well, 
dear" — her  tone  was  cheery,  as  usual,  but  had  a 
firmness  in  it  that  showed  she  had  something  to 
tell — "  the  doctor  says  he  has  the  disease,  that  it 
begins  to  look  like  a  pretty  serious  case,  but  that 


2o6  7I//561  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

there  is  no  doubt,  scarcely  any  doubt  at  all  in  the 
doctor's  mind,  that  his  strong  constitution  and 
general  good  condition  will  bring  him  through." 

Miss  Maria,  too,  believed  in  the  whole  truth, 
and  it  came  to  Helen  with  the  gratefulness  with 
which  it  always  comes  to  an  anxious  mind.  But 
somehow,  suddenly,  all  the  pent-up  and  half  un- 
conscious solicitude  of  these  two  weeks,  and  all 
the  sharp  regret  of  that  moment  when  she  had 
seen  Professor  Wright  stoop  and  take  up  that 
blanket,  seemed  to  come  over  her  like  a  flood, 
and  she  put  her  hands  before  her  face  and  bent 
her  head  to  Miss  Maria's  friendly,  sheltering  arm. 
She  did  not  cry.  She  was  the  sort  of  girl  that 
seldom  does  cry,  except  at  the  times  you  don't 
expect  her  to.  Perhaps  everybody  knows  some 
such  girl. 

Miss  Maria  drew  her  close,  and  patted  her  in 
her  cheery,  loving  way.  "  I  know  just  how  it  is, 
dear.  Without  a  particle  of  fault  or  responsi- 
bility, you  have  the  feeling  that,  somehow  or 
other,  you  have  brought  this  on  that  good  man. 
Now,  you  know,  dear,  that  is  very  unreasonable. 
He  would  probably  have  walked  right  into  it 
that  very  afternoon  if  he  never  had  seen  you, 
and,  at  any  rate,  you  could  n't  possibly  have  helped 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


207 


it — you  were  already  doing  all  you  could  to  help 
it — and  besides,  dear  child,  it  is  the  Lord's  doing." 

Helen  looked  up  much  relieved.  It  is  often 
the  greatest  comfort  in  the  world  to  hear  a  plain 
statement  of  what  we  know  perfectly  well.  Then 
she  put  her  head  down  again.  Other  thoughts 
had  come,  or  the  same  ones  back  again. 

"  If  I  could  only  do  something,  Miss  Maria," 
she  said  presently.  "  I  have  been  thinking  of 
that.  Now,  that  boy,  I  presume,  is  no  nurse  at 
all,  and  the  doctor  is  full  of  business.  If  we 
could  get  a  good,  experienced,  professional  nurse 
for  him — that  would  be  doing  more  good  than 
we  could  do  in  any  other  way."  The  young 
girl's  face  was  bright  in  a  minute.  "  Miss  Maria ! 
You  are  the  most  comfortable  woman.  How 
glad  I  shall  be  if  I  may  help  in  that  way.  Where 
can  we  find  one  ?" 

"  I  think  we  should  have  to  go  to  the  city,  to 
some  of  the  hospitals.  Possibly  one  might  be 
found  in  X ." 

"  My  guardian  knows  all  about  the  X 

Hospital.  Perhaps  he  could  help  us." 

"  Perhaps  so.  That  would  be  far  better  than 
going  to  the  city  with  nothing  but  a  woman's 
word  by  way  of  introduction.  We  might,  at 


2o8  MISS  ROBERTS    FORTUNE. 

least,  try  that  first,  dear.  I  might  go  down  on 
the  midnight  train,"  she  added,  after  some 
thought. 

Helen's  eyes  looked  disappointed. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go,  too  ?" 

"  Yes,  please  ;  very  much." 

"  Then  be  a  good  girl,  and  you  may." 

"Are  you  not  a  little  afraid,  dear,  that  it  will 
be  too  hard  for  Helen  ? — the  excitement  and  the 
broken  rest  ?  Could  you  not  go  alone  ?"  said 
Miss  Prescott,  when  the  plan  was  unfolded  to 
her. 

"  Deborah,"  said  Miss  Maria,  seriously,  turn- 
ing around  from  punching  the  last  bundle  into 
the  little  bag,  "  I  have  been  young,  and  now  am 
old,  but  I  remember  something  about  girls ; 
and  I  do  assure  you  that  child  will  sleep  more  on 
the  midnight  train  to-night  than  she  would  any- 
where else." 

"  Very  well,  dear.  Perhaps  you  are  right," 
said  Miss  Prescott.  She  knew  the  whole  story 
now,  of  course. 

Quiet  little  Mr.  Saxton,  sipping  his  coffee  over 
his  morning  paper,  and  Mitty  serenely  regarding 
him  from  between  the  tea  and  coffee-pots,  had 
perhaps  never  been  more  surprised  than  when 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


209 


these  two  dusty,  heated  travelers  appeared  before 
them.  But  the  ready,  little  man  took  in  the 
whole  case  at  once. 

"  Of  course.  Yes.  I  think  I  know  where  I 
can  find  just  what  you  want.  Mitty,  please  take 
the  ladies  up-stairs.  As  soon  as  you  have  break- 
fasted, and  are  a  little  rested,  we  will  go  out  and 
see  about  this  matter.  My  dear,  you  are  looking 
well,"  as  Helen  lingered  a  moment,  and  pleased 
him  by  saying  how  natural  and  pleasant  things 
looked  at  home. 

"  Quite  a  woman — quite  a  woman.  Almost  as 
old," — the  little  man  murmured  as  he  walked  back 
to  the  table.  But  he  did  n't  take  up  his  paper 
again,  and  he  let  his  coffee  stand  till  it  was  cold. 

On  the  noon-train  the  two  ladies  went  back, 
taking  with  them  a  quiet,  insignificant-looking 

man,  who  was  said  to  be  the  best  nurse  in  X 

county. 

Helen  found  a  visitor  in  her  room. 

"  He  came  last  night,"  said  Miss  Haas,  bend- 
ing over  a  dictionary  with  her  fingers  in  her  ears. 

It  was  Jimmy,  the  mocking-bird  !  Tied  to  his 
cage  was  a  little  folded  slip  of  paper,  with  Helen's 
name  written  on  it : 

"  I  thought  you  would  be  willing  to  take  care 


2  io  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

of  Jimmy  for  a  few  days,"  it  said.  "  I  think  it 
will  be  only  for  a  few  days — if  more — for  as 
long  as  you  will  care  to  keep  him.  I  have  told 
him  to  be  a  good  boy,  and  to  sing  you  his  very 
choicest  songs.  You  must  see  to  it  that  he  is 
good  and  merry." 

Helen  quickly  put  the  paper  in  her  pocket, 
and  took  the  cage  out  of  the  room. 

"  That  horrid,  unnatural,  stolid  woman !  I 
never  heard  of  anybody  that  didn't  like  a  mock- 
ing-bird—  did  you,  Jimmy?  Never — never  in 
my  life  !  And  you  didn't  come  for  her  either, 
did  you,  Jimmy?  You  are  all — every  bit  for 
me.  And  you  are  to  be  good  and  merry.  Good 
and  merry  ?  What  must  I  be  then  ?  I  won't  be 
naughty.  I  will  try  not,"  and  she  bit  her  lips 
hard. 

"  Miss  Maria,  may  I  keep  Jimmy  in  this  little 
reading-room?  Miss  Haas  —  I  mean  —  he  sings 
rather  loud,  you  know.  And  I  would  like  to 
have  him  here." 

Miss  Maria,  who  had  happened  to  pass  the  door 
and  catch  the  tableau  in  Helen's  room,  kissed  her 
heartily  without  a  word,  and  hung  up  the  cage 
instanter. 

Jimmy  undoubtedly  looks  back  on  these  days 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  2 1 1 

at  Miss  Prescott's,  as  the  most  remarkable  period 
of  his  existence.  He  was  hung  up  high,  he  was 
set  down  low  ;  he  was  put  out  in  the  sunshine  on 
the  piazza  roof ;  he  was  taken  in  under  the  shade 
of  the  green  blinds,  where  it  must  be  a  great  deal 
cooler  and  pleasanter  for  him.  His  boiled  eggs 
were  of  every  possible  degree  of  consistency,  ac- 
cording to  the  varying  directions  of  the  school- 
girls, and  he  had  more  white  sugar  the  first  day 
than  he  had  ever  seen  in  his  life  before.  Three 
times  a  day  his  new  mistress  brought  him  her 
apron  pocket  full  of  delicacies  in  the  way  of  bugs 
and  beetles,  which  he  pulled  to  pieces  and  ate  up 
in  a  shocking  manner,  right  before  one's  eyes. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Maria  !  I'm  afraid  I've  undermined 
his  constitution  with  grasshoppers,"  cried  Helen 
one  morning,  when  the  little  fellow  hung  his  head 
on  one  side,  and  stopped  singing  for  at  least  a 
second  and  a  half.  "  Alice  Gray  says  she  never 
gave  her  bird  grasshoppers.  They're  awfully 
indigestible.  And  Jimmy  has  eaten  at  least  six- 
teen this  morning." 

But  he  lived  through  all  the  experimenting, 
and  seemed  to  thrive.  He  did  sing  his  choicest 
songs,  and  he  was  himself,  and  helped  others  to 
be  "good  and  merry." 


2 1 2  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

Mrs.  and  Miss  Haas  had  been  very  much 
shocked  when  they  learned  the  nature  of  Pro- 
fessor Wright's  illness.  The  elder  lady  was  es- 
pecially excited.  She  wept,  and  moaned,  and 
prayed,  and  shrieked,  and  wrought  herself  up 
into  a  regular  French  passion,  and  at  last  Miss 
Maria  put  her  to  bed  and  gave  her  paregoric. 
Miss  Haas,  however,  after  the  first  shock  of  sur- 
prise and  disgust  was  over,  conducted  herself 
with  composure. 

"  That  dreadful  disease  !  I  always  supposed  it 
was  confined  to  the  lower  classes.  But  the  dear 
professor  so  interests  himself  in  the  masses.  Ah, 
well !  he  has  the  best  of  care.  I  trust  he  will 
not  succumb." 

From  this  time  she  appeared  very  much  as 
usual,  except  that  she  made  two  mysterious  trips 

on  the  "  Oxford,  X ,  and  Springfield  railroad," 

and  was  gone  all  day.  It  was  a  little  noticeable 
that  neither  of  these  ladies  seemed  to  think  of 
the  possibility  of  going  to  their  friend  in  his  need, 
and  neither  of  them  made  any  practical  sugges- 
tion for  his  benefit. 

There  were  some  anxious  days  at  first.  The 
reports  of  the  doctor  were  unsatisfactory.  Noth- 
ing definite  could  be  said.  There  was  the  same 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  2 1 3 

•» 

dull  tale  every  day  —  "a  very  sick  man"  —  "a 
serious  case."  What  would  be  next  ?  Who  should 
say  ?  Then  they  spoke  more  hopefully.  •"  If  he 
holds  out  a  little  longer,  there  will  be  a  change. 
He  will  come  up."  Then  the  change  came  — 
'•  out  of  danger."  Then  the  long  days  of  con- 
valescence. These  days  were  not  forgotten  by 
the  good  man's  many  friends.  A  thoughtful  lit- 
tle gentleman  in  X remembered  them.  The 

choicest  fruits  and  dainties  came  up  by  express 
from  that  city.  All  Oxford  showered  down  flow- 
ers upon  him. 

One  day  Helen  ventured  to  send  a  dish  of  pan-- 
sies  (she   knew  he  was   swallowed  up  in   roses, 
perhaps   nobody  had  thought  of  pansies)  from 
herself  and  Jimmy.     And  she  found  them  again 
in  a  sermon  after  many  days. 

At  last  —  it  was  such  a  long  four  weeks  to 
every  body — at  last  one  morning  the  professor 
came  down  to  breakfast.  He  looked  wonder- 
fully tall,  and,  somehow,  very  loosely  put  to- 
gether ;  and,  though  it  was  July,  the  greenish- 
gray  shawl  hung  over  his  shoulders.  The  fam- 
ily was  assembled  in  the  girls'  parlor,  prayers 
just  over. 

There  was  a  general,  pleased  rush  to  the  door, 


2 1 4  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

•# 

as  the  good  man  was  seen  coming  up  the  walk. 
Mrs.  and  Miss  Haas  fell  upon  him  and  gushed. 
Miss  Maria  gave  him  her  hearty  hand-clasp  and 
good-morning.  Miss  Prescott  welcomed  him  in 
her  own  gentle  way.  Helen,  a  little  pale,  and 
frightened  in  spite  of  herself,  waited  for  her  turn. 
The  professor  left  the  others  and,  with  his  very 
rarest  smile,  came  and  held  her  hand  for  a  mo- 
ment. 

"  Has  Jimmy  been  a  good  boy  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

And  that  was  all  that  was  said. 


"  Hark  !  how  the  birds  do  sing, 

And  woods  do  ring, 

All  creatures  have  their  joy,  and  man  hath  his ; 
Yet,  if  we  rightly  measure, 
Man's  joy  and  pleasure 
Rather  hereafter,  than  in  present,  is. 

"  Not  that  he  may  not  here 

Taste  of  the  cheer, 

But,  as  birds  drink  and  straight  lift  up  their  head, 
So  must  he  sip  and  think 

Of  better  drink 
He  may  attain  to  after  he  is  dead." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

HE  long  vacation  came  on  apace,  and  brought 
-*-  a  thorough  change  of  scene  for  every  body. 
Miss  Prescott  and  Miss  Maria  went  to  the  moun- 
tains this  year.  Mrs.  and  Miss  Hfaas  accepted  a 
timely  invitation  from  an  old  traveling  acquaint- 
ance to  pass  the  season  in  a  Newport  cottage. 
Professor  Wright  treated  himself  to  a  fishing 
and  hunting  trip  in  Maine  and  New  Brunswick. 

Helen  went  home  to  X ,  this  time  to  Uncle 

Roger's. 

It  was  pleasant  to  see  the  handsome  house  open 
again.  It  was  pleasant  to  see  Aunt  Matilda's 
pleasant  face,  and  wonderful  to  see  her  piles  of 
pretty  things.  For  at  least  a  day  and  a  half 
Helen's  feminine  soul  delighted  itself  in  trifles. 
The  laces  were  so  exquisite,  the  little  hats  and 
bonnets  were  so  dainty.  There  was  a  camel's- 
hair  shawl  for  each  of  the  girls  ;  a  red  one  for 

Lily,  a  lovely  white  one  for  Helen  ;   and  there 
10  (217) 


21 8  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

were  Paris  dresses  in  soft  shaded  browns  and 
greens. 

It  was  strange,  through  all  this  summer  (at 
least  Helen  thought  it  so),  that  though  she  knew 
in  her  heart  she  cared  more  for  the  real  and  deep 
things  now,  though  she  coveted  the  "  best  gifts" 
more  than  ever  in  her  life  before,  she  neverthe- 
less found  more  pleasure  in  these  pretty  trifles 
than  she  used  to  feel  in  them.  Two  years  ago 
how  she  had  sometimes  fretted,  and  chafed,  and 
cried  out  against  the  nonsense  and  the  "  flum- 
mery." But  now  Aunt  Matilda's  genuine  delight 
in  a  Roman  sash  or  a  little  blue  bonnet,  was  quite 
contagious.  Whether  was  it  that  the  womanli- 
ness within  her — all  the  womanliness,  little  and 
great — was  waking  up,  or  that  a  little  seed  long 
planted  in  her  heart,  which  she  was  beginning  to 
"  keep  and  cultivate,"  had  something  to  do  with 
it  ?  Who  shall  say  ?  A  pretty  thought  that  she 
had  found  once  in  her  reading  somewhere,  came 
back  to  her  now : 

"Leaves  are  light,  and  joyous,  and  trifling; 
they  even  dance ;  yet  God,  in  his  wisdom,  has 
made  them  a  part  of  the  oak." 

"  Only,  I  suppose  one  ought  to  be  sure  what 
is  leaves  and  what  is  in  the  grain,"  she  consid- 


MISS  ROBERTS  FORTUNE.  2IQ 

ered.  "  Ah,  yes — if  that  delight  over  the  blue 
bonnet  be  only  leaves,  something  little,  light, 
outward — merely  a  trimming — what  a  rare  and 
charming  woman  Aunt  Matilda  is !" 

Helen  had  not  philosophised  a  great  deal  on  this 
subject.  If  she  had,  perhaps,  she  would  have 
divided  womankind  into  three  classes.  First,  the 
woman  who  gives  herself  to  the  pretty  and  little 
things  of  life,  till  into  the  very  texture  of  her 
heart  is  woven  a  fatal  net-work  of  lace  and 
gauzes.  Second,  the  woman  who,  with  lofty  aim 
and  pure  heart,  lives  far  above  these  things,  and 
steels  her  soul  to  vanities.  Third,  and  most  beau- 
tiful of  all,  the  woman  who,  with  real,  apprecia- 
tive, hearty  pleasure,  wears  her  laces  and  her 
diamonds ;  yet  who,  with  one  sweep  of  a  small 
white  hand,  will  brush  them  all  away,  and  hold 
still  her  best  treasures,  fast  and  safe.  The  trifles, 
then,  came  pleasantly,  and,  perhaps,  not  unfit- 
tingly, into  the  young  girl's  summer. 

There  was  a  pleasure  of  another  and  a  better 
kind,  in  being  with  Lily  and  Dora  once  more. 
Those  months  in  Platoville  had  done  more  to 
make  the  cousins  friends  than  all  their  lives  be- 
fore. Lily  was  pretty.  She  always  seemed  to 
be  growing  pretty,  and  gave  you  a  fresh  sense 


220  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

of  her  prettiness  every  time  you  saw  her,  though 
it  might  be  twenty  times  a  day.  Dora  was 
grown  quite  out  of  Helen's  knowledge.  She 
was  fifteen  now,  and  very  tall  for  that  age.  But 
she  utterly  refused  to  adopt  the  manners  and 
proprieties  of  a  young  lady.  She  wore  her  dresses 
as  short  as  the  dressmakers  would  make  them  ; 
she  affected  sailor-jackets,  and  hats,  and  bows 
(though  they  had  been  "  out"  and  panniers  "  in" 
a  year) :  she  actually  carried  a  cane,  whenever 
she  could  get  one  into  the  street  without  being 
discovered  by  some  of  the  family,  and  she  sent  a 
dagger  to  her  mother's  heart  by  coming  home 
from  down-town  one  warm  morning  with  most 
of  her  handsome  dark  hair  done  up  in  a  paper, 
"  for  future  use,"  she  said,  while  the  little  that 
remained  on  her  head  was  cropped  as  close  as 
Jerry  Cruncher's.  She  had  imbibed  woman's 
rights'  principles  from  some  western  maiden 
cousin,  and  distributed  tracts  on  that  subject 
among  her  elders,  with  great  zeal  and  some  suc- 
cess. She  had  not  lost  her  fondness  for  Helen, 
and  the  three  girls  had  many  a  talk  and  laugh  to- 
gether over  the  old  Platoville  times.  What  ages 
ago  those  times  looked  now  ! 

Altogether,  things  went  on  so  pleasantly  that 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  221 

Helen  had  been  at  least  two  weeks  at  Uncle  Ro- 
ger's before  the  old,  queer,  out  of  place  feeling 
came  upon  her  at  all,  and  then  it  didn't  stay  very 
long. 

You  are  not  to  suppose,  however,  dear  reader, 
that  this  young  girl  always  did  and  always  said 
just  the  right  things  during  these  two  weeks. 
You  are  not  to  suppose  that  in  any  thing  she  had 
"  already  attained."  This  is  a  story-book,  and 
story-books  cannot  stop  to  pick  up  the  hero 
every  time  he  falls,  or  even  to  count  the  times  he 
falls.  It  is  for  them  to  record  whether  he  ever 
gets  to  the  end  or  anywhere  near  there,  and  per- 
haps note  something  of  the  way  along  which  he 
goes.  After  they  went  down  to  Siloam,  whither 
the  warm  weather  soon  drove  them,  Helen  was 
not  so  good  a  girl  as  she  had  been  before.  She 
resisted  the  special  dressing  for  dinner,  as  in 
times  past,  and  would  not  take  care  of  her  com- 
plexion. She  did  worse  things  than  those.  She 
refused  to  go  one  day  with  her  aunt  and  Lily  and 

a  troop  of  X fashionables  down  the  harbor  to 

the  light-house,  just  the  trip  she  had  so  wished 
to  take  last  summer.  The  only  reasons  for  this 
refusal  were,  that  she  didn't  like  the  party, 
that  she  felt  just  like  sitting  on  the  rocks  all 


222  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

day,  and  that  she  had  a  tale  she  wished  to  tell 
the  padlocked  book.  She  pleased  herself  that 
day,  but  she  did  it  with  an  uncomfortable  sense 
that  she  was  doing  not  only  a  queer  but  an  un- 
gracious and  a  niggardly  thing.  She  might  have 
given  them  the  little  of  herself  they  would  have 
asked  for ;  and  if  they  had  chattered,  there  were 
the  sea,  and  the  breeze,  and  the  sky — all  her  own. 
But  this  very  fall  was  the  occasion  of  another 
little  progress.  To  make  up  for  this  lost  day, 
Helen  invited  herself  to  the  great  hop  of  the  sea- 
son, at  which  Lily  was  to  dance  with  the  wealthy 
and  distinguished  John  Johnson,  Jr.,  just  grad- 
uated from  Harvard,  and  wear  the  new  pink  silk, 
with  the  elegant  lace  overskirt.  Helen  arrayed 
herself  in  a  soft,  gauzy  dress,  of  very  delicate  lav- 
ender. She  chose  it,  after  having  the  two  on  her 
bed  all  day,  instead  of  the  new  Paris  green,  with 
point-lace  trimming.  The  last  time  she  had  worn 
this  dress  (at  the  soired  at  the  end  of  the  term), 
a  wise  man  had  asked  her  what  color  she  called 
that,  and  said  it  was  like  a  little  summer-evening 
cloud.  But  whether  that  fact  had  any  thing  to 
do  with  the  choice  to-night,  she  could  not  have 
told  you  if  you  had  asked. 

"All    ready?"    said    Aunt    Matilda,    turning 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

around  from  her  mirror,  when  Helen  presented 
herself  for  inspection.  "  How  pretty  you  grow, 
child.  You  have  a  great  deal  more  style  than 
you  used  to  have.  But  you  don't  do  yourself 
justice.  You  ought  to  dress  every  evening,  and 
go  to  all  the  hops.  There  are  so  many  agree- 
able people,  and  you'd  find  plenty  who  don't 
dance." 

"  Who  makes  your  bows  and  ties  your  sashes 
at  Oxford  ?"  said  Lily,  coming  up  to  perform  the 
latter  office.  "  You  used  to  hate  to  make  bows 
so.  Does  your  room-mate  do  it?" 

"  My  room-mate !  Oh,  girls — (Aunt  Matilda 
had  gone  out,  and  Dora  stood  by,  very  uncom- 
fortable, in  white  tarletan) — I  only  wish  you  could 
see,"  and  she  tried,  in  a  few  words,  to  set  Miss 
Haas  before  their  eyes. 

"  That's  the  kind  of  girl  mother  used  to  say 
you  would  make,"  said  Lily.  "  You  used  to  be 
poking  over  your  old  German  dictionary  all  the 
time,  and  you  always  knew  so  much  more  than 
anybody  else." 

Lily  had  at  times  the  grace  of  plain  speaking, 
as  well  as  the  grace  of  prettiness.  Helen  put 
both  hands  quickly  before  her  face. 

"  You're  not  going  to  cry  and  spoil  your  eyes," 


224  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

said  Lily,  in  some  anxiety.  "  Why,  you  know  I 
didn't  mean  any  thing,  old  girl." 

"  No,  but  I  wonder — "  and  the  sash  being  tied, 
she  suddenly  left  the  room. 

"  She  hasn't  got  over  all  her  queer  ways  yet," 
thought  Lily. 

But  Helen  soliloquised  in  her  own  room.  "  I 
do  wonder  if  that  is  one  of  the  things  I'm  being 
delivered  from.  Of  course  I'm  not  half  so  clever 
as  Miss  Haas,  and  never  should  know  half  so 
much.  I  don't  mean  that.  And  my  mind  doesn't 
run  to  beetles  and  galvanic  batteries,  either  (I 
never  took  to  the  natural  sciences),  but — did  I  ? 
— was  I  in  that  danger  ?  How  wonderful  it  is  ! 
How  He  does  take  care !" 

Helen  really  quite  enjoyed  the  evening,  (or 
rather  night,  for  they  did  not  shut  their  eyes  till 
three  o'clock,)  but  chiefly  because  Dora  was  near 
her,  sitting  out  on  the  piazza  outside  in  the  dark, 
and  making  the  most  diverting  remarks  on  the 
people  she  could  see,  but  who  could  not  see  her. 

"  I  must  try  to  do  something  for  that  child," 
Helen  thought,  "but  how  to  begin  —  what  to 
say !" 

An  opportunity  soon  offered.  Dora  was  the 
kind  of  person  to  furnish  her  own  texts.  The 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE:  22$ 

two  were  sitting  on  the  rocks  one  evening,  and 
had  not  spoken  for  some  minutes. 

"  I  hate  folks,"  said  Dora,  suddenly.  "  Don't 
you?" 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Helen,  after 
looking  at  the  girl's  face,  and  seeing  that  this 
was  not  a  thing  to  be  laughed  at. 

"  Yes,  I  do  sometimes." 

"  No,  you  don't  know  what  I  mean,  then,"  said 
the  child,  fiercely,  "  for  I  hate  them  all  the  time." 

There  was  no  use  in  telling  her  that  she  did  n't 
mean  this.  She  would  have  meant  it,  if  one 
had. 

"  Look  at  them  now,  training  up  and  down 
that  veranda  like  a  funeral  procession  in  gay 
colors.  There's  that  old  pussy-catty  Mrs.  Brown, 
who  patronizes  mother  so  and  '  my  dears'  us  all. 
She  came  out  yesterday  after  dinner  and  began 
to  talk  to  me,  and  thought  I  was  going  to  prom- 
enade with  her,  I  suppose.  Why,  you  don't 
know  how  I  felt.  I  thought  I  should  knock  her 
down  if  she  said  another  word,  and  I  rushed 
right  off  as  fast  as  I  could  go,  without  saying  a 
word,  and  did  n't  stop  till  I  got  to  the  woods.  I 
suppose  she  thought  I  had  gone  wild.  She 
looked  afraid  of  me  at  breakfast.  What  does  she 
10* 


226  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

think  of,  do  you  suppose,  that  old  bundle  of  silk 
and  lace,  when  she  sits  there  blinking-  at  the 
water  and  the  sky,  what  do  you  suppose  she 
thinks  of?  where's  her  soul  ?  Why,  I'd  a  great 
deal  rather  have  my  Jip." 

Helen  mildly  suggested  that  Mrs.  Brown 
probably  had  a  soul,  somewhere  behind  her  cap- 
ribbons,  if  she  did  n't  wear  it  on  her  face. 

"  And  there's  her  scapegrace  of  a  son,"  con- 
tinued Dora,  too  excited  to  make  any  conces- 
sions, "  who  depends  on  his  imagination  for  his 
facts,  and  on  his  memory  for  his  jokes  (Dora  had 
just  heard  that  and  was  immensely  tickled  by 
it),  and  has  a  head  about  as  big  as  a  pea-nut  shell. 
What  do  you  suppose  he's  here  for,  and  all  that 
over  there  right  before  his  eyes,"  and  she  pointed 
to  the  sunset. 

"  He  who  runs  may  read,"  thought  Helen.  "  I 
saw  that  fellow  do  a  nice  thing  once,  though," 
she  said,  aloud. 

"What  was  it?"  said  Dora,  snapping  off  a 
daisy's  head  with  her  little  stick. 

"  You  know  he's  a  sophomore  at  Oxford.  I 
was  riding  there  one  day  when  I  saw  what  I 
never  saw  before,  a  woman  so  intoxicated  that 
she  could  hardly  walk.  She  was  going  down  a 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


227 


hill  to  her  house,  and  there  was  a  steep  bank 
down  to  the  river  on  one  side  of  her.  She  came 
very  near  falling  off  there  two  or  three  times.  A 
party  of  students  came  along  just  then  and  were 
looking  at  her,  and  after  a  few  minutes,  this 
Brown  stepped  out  from  the  rest,  and  made  this 
dirty,  miserable  creature  take  his  arm,  and  walk- 
ed home  with  her.  All  the  way.  I  know  it, 
for  I  walked  my  horse  to  see." 

"  'A  fellow-feeling'  and  so  forth,"  said  Dora. 

"  That's  what  I  thought  at  first,  and  then  I 
thought  even  if  it  were  so,  and  all  the  more  be- 
cause it  was  so,  it  was  a  real  noble  knightly  thing. 
And  I've  never  laughed  at  his  little  head  and 
his  big  seal  rings  since." 

"  Well,"  said  the  child,  a  little  staggered,  "  it's 
just  as  true  nevertheless,  in  general,  and  especi- 
ally with  women.  They're  a  set  of  unmeaning, 
unthinking  creatures.  They  have  allowed  their 
intellects  to  be  dwarfed,  and  their  liberties 
trampled  on  till" — she  looked  at  Helen  and  they 
both  laughed.  "  Anyhow  I  do  mean  it,"  con- 
tinued the  discomfited  Dora,  returning  to  the 
original  vein,  which  worked  better.  "  Why, 
when  I'm  shut  up  with  mother  and  Lily  for  half 
a  day,  you  have  no  idea  how  I  feel.  I  really  feel 


228  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

as  if  I  should  suffocate  if  I  could  n't  get  out  here 
to  these  jolly  old  rocks.  They  understand  a  fel- 
low. They  know  enough  not  to  torment  you 
with  senseless  questions  and  stupid  exclama- 
tions." 

ft. 

"  Yes,  I  have  an  idea.  I  do  know  just  how  it 
feels,"  said  Helen,  and  then  the  prettiest  little 
sharpie  came  by  and  they  had  to  stop  to  speak 
of  that,  and  then  they  went  off  on  a  long,  ram- 
bling talk  about  boats,  and  rocks,  and  folks. 
Helen  wound  it  up  as  follows :  "  Well,  my  dear, 
that's  quite  a  little  preach,  isn't  it?  But  you 
know  I'm  ever  so  mucJi  older  than  you  are,  and 
I've  been  to  school  at  Oxford.  I  have  some 
people  I  want  you  to  see,  and  then  we'll  see  what 
you  say.  I  can't  do  much  for  her  myself,"  she 
thought ;  "  but  I  can  put  her  in  the  way.  That's 
something.  She  shall  go  to  Oxford  if  I  can 
bring  it  to  pass." 

Helen  saw  very  little  of  her  guardian  through 
all  the  summer.  While  she  was  at  Siloam  he 
came  down  once,  and  they  had  a  whole  long  day 
on  the  rocks.  He  seemed  a  little  tired  and  worn. 
It  was  a  busy  time  he  said.  Helen  had  loved 
the  little  man  so  much  more  since  Miss  Prescott 
had  told  her  that  about  him.  She  wished  i.e 


MISS  ROBERTS  FORTUNE.  229 

could  know  how  much  she  loved  him  for  it.  She 
looked  at  him  long  as  he  sat  with  a  quiet,  com- 
prehending gaze,  looking  out  over  the  water  be- 
fore him,  and  thought  of  his  long,  silent,  sup- 
pressed life.  She  wished^  she  had  been  a  better 
child  to  him.  He  turned  around  once  and 
caught  her  look.  It  seemed  to  make  him  a  little 
nervous.  She  smiled  and  said  she  wished  he 
could  give  himself  a  vacation.  What  a  dreadful 
thing  that  business  was. 

"Ah,  I'm  getting  to  be  old — an  old  man  ;  your 

guardian  seems  to  you  like  an  old  man,  does  n't 

he?"  and  he  got  up  nervously  and  walked  a  few 

.steps,  and  came  back  nervously  and  sat  down 

again,  and  repeated  the  question. 

"  Why,  no,  sir,"  said  Helen,  with  perhaps  the 
most  sunshiny  smile  she  had  ever  given  him, 
"  why,  no,  you  never  seem  old  to  me,  Mr.  Saxton. 
You  are  just  as  you  were  when  I  was  a  little  girl." 

The  little  gentleman  got  up  again  and  walked 
away,  and  came  back  again  and  sat  down.  . 

"  When  are  you  coming  home?"  he  asked  sud- 
denly. "  I  mean  what  are  your  plans  ?"  Her 
plans  ?  They  had  always  been  his  plans  before. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,  I'm  sure.  I  was  going  to 
ask  you  to-day,"  she  said,  playfully. 


230  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  wish,  my  child,"  he  said 
simply,  and  waited  for  her  answer. 

Helen  murmured  something  about  Oxford  and 
next  term.  She  fancied  he  looked  a  little  disap- 
pointed. 

"  More  school  ?     Very  well." 

"  Just  to  finish  out  the  year,  you  know,  sir," 
she  said,  in  a  deprecating  tone.  "  Only  till 
Christmas.  And  then  I  shall  be  twenty-one." 
She  did  not  say  this  at  all  exultingly.  Beyond 
twenty-one  it  was  a  very  vague  prospect.  She 
dreaded  it  a  little. 

"  Yes,  then  you  will  be  twenty-one.  Then  you 
shall  do  just  as  you  please,"  he  said,  rising  again-. 
"  It  is  better  so.  School  again  till  Christmas, 
and  then — " 

"  I  wish  it  might  always  go  on  as  it  is,"  said 
Helen,  with  a  real  little  pang  of  heart-ache. 

"  Supposing  We  don't  think  of  it  much  till  the 
time  comes,"  said  the  kindly  man,  coming  back 
to  her  side. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  will  try  not."  And  then  she  told 
him  about  Dora,  and  he  quite  agreed  with  her, 
and  helped  plan  the  attack  on  Aunt  Matilda,  and 
said  he  would  speak  to  Mr.  Wood  if  she  wished, 
and  was  so  kind,  and  dear,  and  fatherly,  that  she 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  23! 

thought  of  him,  and  blessed  him  in  her  heart  all 
the  evening-  after  he  had  gone  away. 

She  did  not  see  him  again  before  she  went  to 
Oxford.  When  he  and  Dora  stopped  a  day  in 

X ,  on  their  way  to  school,  Mr.  Saxton  was 

away  on  business. 

At  Oxford,  there  were  a  few  changes.  Some 
new  girls,  and  some  old  ones  missing,  of  course. 
There  was  a  student  as  chaplain  in  place  of  Pro- 
fessor Wright,  who  had  only  held  that-  office  as 
a  special  favor  last  year.  The  professor,  how- 
ever, still  had  the  Bible -class,  and  retained  all 
his  duties  and  privileges  as  friend  and  adviser  of 
the  whole  establishment.  He  kept  the  German 
readers,  too,  but  was  to  have  them  separately 
'  this  year.  Miss  Haas  was  anxious  to  read  Kant. 
The  professor  had  found  something  else  which 
he  thought  Miss  Roberts  would  enjoy  better, 
and  he  had  plenty  of  time  for  her.  The  good 
man  was  as  good  as  ever,  and  as  brown  and 
sturdy  after  his  summer  as  one  could  wish  to  see 
him. 

Just  one  week  of  the  term  had  passed,  and 
Saturday  morning  Helen  sat  under  the  elm-tree 
with  Miss  Maria  and  some  of  the  new  girls. 
Dora,  near  by,  was  teaching  ring-toss  to  another 


232  ,1/755  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

group.  The  September  sunshine  came  down 
through  the  leaves  and  flecked  the  girls'  light 
dresses  with  bright  spots.  Oxford  had  never 
seemed  more  beautiful.  The  hills  stood  out  blue 
in  the  clear  air,  the  river  sparkled,  the  fields  were 
golden  with  grain.  Professor  Wright,  with  the 
mail,  came  up  the  street,  and  in  at  the  gate.  He 
distributed  his  favors  to  the  nearer  group,  and 
then  came  and  handed  Miss  Maria  a  letter  which, 
he  confessed,  he  had  taken  out  of  the  office  yes- 
terday. 

"I  never  knew  a  man  yet  who  could  be  de- 
pended on  for  women's  letters,"  said  Miss 
Maria  good-naturedly.  "  The  best  of  men  fail 
there." 

"  In  fact,  I've  sometimes  thought  the  best  of 
men  are  a  little  worse  than  anybody  else,  Miss 
Maria,"  said  Helen,  a  little  archly.  She  had 
been  one  of  the  sufferers  from  the  professor's  in- 
firmity, and  was  growing  bold  in  measures  for 
redress. 

"  Now,  if  I  were  so  vain  as  to  suppose  that 
that  remark  could  refer  to  me,"  said  the  profes- 
sor, with  a  grave  mouth  and  a  smiling  eye,  "  I 
should  endeavor  to  clear  up  my  character  imme- 
diately by  doing  my  duty  promptly  for  once ;" 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  233 

and  he  drew  out  of  another  pocket  a  letter  for 
Helen. 

It  was  from  Mr.  Saxton. 

Helen  opened  it  as  soon  as  the  little  laugh  sub- 
sided. Etiquette  was  not  strict  at  Oxford,  and, 
besides,  Mrs.  Haas  had  arrived  by  this  time,  and 
was  devoting  herself  to  Professor  Wright. 

The  letter  ran  as  follows  :  "  MY  DEAR  CHILD, — 
I  do  not  wish  to  alarm  you  by  what  I  am  going 
to  say.  I  have  been  ill  a  day  or  two,  and  there 
are  some  things  I  should  like  to  say  to  you  be- 
fore the  illness  increases,  as  it,  of  course,  may  do. 
If  you  can  come  conveniently,  I  shall  be  very 
glad  to  see  you. — Yours,  EDWARD  SAXTON." 

Helen's  face  changed  color  quickly  as  she  read 
the  few  words ;  but  no  one  was  noticing  her,  and 
she  made  no  sound.  She  folded  the  letter  and 
held  it  for  a  moment,  and  then  followed  Miss 
Maria  into  the  house.  Every  body  with  a  trouble 
went  straight  to  Miss  Maria. 

"  There  is  a  train  at  eleven,  dear.  Now,  what 
is  there  to  do  ?"  said  that  dear  woman,  having 
read  the  letter.  Her  sympathy  was  always  of 
that  kind  which  is  easiest  to  take  as  well  as  most 
useful. 

There  were  not  many  things  to  be  done.     The 


234  MISS  ROBERTS    FORTUNE. 

morning  seemed  long,  and  Helen  looked  at  her 
watch  many  times  before  eleven  o'clock  came. 

At  home,  Mitty  met  her  at  the  door,  and,  speak- 
ing in  a  grave  whisper,  led  the  way  into  the  li- 
brary. 

There  she  entered  upon  a  detailed  account  of 
the  beginnings  and  progress  of  Mr.  Saxton's  ill- 
ness. 

!     "  Can  I  go  up  now  ?"  said  Helen,  interrupting 
her. 

"  The  doctor  is  there,"  said  Mitty. 

"  Then  I'll  wait  and  see  him  ;"  and  she  sub- 
mitted to  a  continuation  of  the  tale. 

The  doctor  came  down  soon.  The  kind,  old 
man  sat  down  by  Helen,  and  put  his  arm  about 
her. 

She  had  known  him  since  her  babyhood,  and 
his  face  always  appeared  to  her  now  through  a 
mist  of  childish  dreams  and  fancies. 

"  He  is  very  comfortable,"  the  doctor  said. 
"  There  will  be  very  little  suffering,  and  I  think 
his  mind  will  remain  clear.  You  need  not  be 
afraid  of  talking  too  much.  Do  just  as  he  says. 
Nothing  seems  to  excite  him.  It  is  one  of  those 
cases,  of  which  I  have  seen  a  few,  in  which  the  ' 
patient  seems  to  take  things  into  his  own  hands, 


MISS  ROBERTS*  FORTUNE.  235 

and  understands  the  disease  better  than  any  one 
else  does.  He  had  arranged  all  his  papers  and 
written  directions  about  some  special  matters  be- 
fore he  sent  for  me.  He  knows  more  about  him- 
self than  I  do." 

In  half  an  hour  Helen  went  into  the  room. 
The  door  was  partly  open,  and  he  was  alone. 
The  room  was  still  and  peaceful.  All  the  calm 
of  the  man's  life  seemed  concentrated  there. 
The  air  stirred  the  lace  curtains  gently,  the  pleas- 
ant sounds  of  the  distant  city  came  in.  It  seem- 
ed impossible  to  think  of  anything  but  peace. 

"  Thank  you  for  coming  so  soon,  my  dear.  I 
am  very  glad  to  see  you."  Helen  stooped  and 
kissed  him.  "  This  is  very  pleasant.  I  hoped 
you  would  be  able  to  come,"  he  said,  gently. 
"After  you  are  rested,  come  and  see  me  ;"  and  he 
released  her  hand. 

"  I  am  rested,  now,  sir." 

"And  have  had  your  tea?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  sit  where  I  can  see  your  face,  please." 

She  took  a  large,  white-covered  easy-chair  that 
stood  by  the  bed. 

"  There  are  some  things  I  wish  to  say  to  you. 
First,  some  business  matters.  Perhaps  they 


236  ^//55  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

will  seem  dry  to  you,  but  you  have  a  clear  mind. 
I  think  you  will  follow  me.  And  it  is  important 
that  you  should  know  them."  And  he  told  her, 
with  great  particularity  and  carefulness,  just  what 
and  in  what  state  her  property  had  been  origi- 
nally, how  it  had  been  expended  and  invested, 
and  how  it  stood  now.  Then  there  was  a  little 
pause.  "And  now,  my  child, — you  have  been  very 
precious  to  me" 

Helen  seized  the  hand  which  lay  extended  to- 
ward her,  and  bent  her  head  low  over  it. 

"  I  thank  God  that  He  gave  you  to  me.  It 
has  been  the  great  joy  of  my  life.  I  loved  your 
mother,  Helen.  Why  should  I  say  I  loved  ?  / 
loved  her  forever.  I  want  to  tell  you  that  you 
are  growing  up  into  her  beautiful  womanhood. 
May  God  make  it  a  blessing,  as  he  made  her's." 

Helen  was  looking  at  him  now.  He  had 
gently  lifted  her  head,  and  was  looking  into  her 
eyes. 

"  I  have  here  a  little  ring  which  was  intended 
for  your  mother's  hand  (he  drew  something  from 
under  the  pillow).  It  was  not  for  me  to  place  it 
there,  but  I  would  like  her  child  to  wear  it." 

He  stopped,  seeming  to  see  a  question  in 
Helen's  eyes,  and  said  in  a  deeper  tone,  "  It  was 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  T UNE.  237 

not  her  fault,  .dear,  that  this  was  not  so.  It  was 
never  her  fault.  It  was  only  mine  —  only  my 
rashness  and  folly.  But  God  has  forgiven  me." 

He  waited  a  little,  and  then,  taking  Helen's 
hand,  fitted  the  ring  to  her  finger. 

"  I  do  not  mean  it  to  take  the  place  of  any 
other  that  may  come,  my  child.  I  have  thought 
sometimes  of  that  —  if  you  were  quite  willing  — 
quite  ready  —  but  that  is  all  over;"  and  he 
smiled.  '"  But  let  this  have  a  place  and  value  of 
its  own." 

Helen  bent  her  head  again  and  kissed  the  un- 
conscious stone  as  it  lay  on  her  finger.  It  seemed 
impossible  for  her  to  speak.  And  yet  she  so 
wanted  him  to  know.  She  lifted  her  head  at 
last. 

"  I  wish  I  could  only  say — I  wish  I  had  been 
a  better  girl,"  she  whispered,  and  then  the  tears 
came  like  a  flood. 

"  Why,  my  child — my  child.  Yes,  I  know  you 
have  loved  your  guardian — and  God  bless  you 
evermore  for  what  you  have  been  to  me.  And 
now,  my  dear,  I  think  you  had  better  go,"  he  said  .; 
and  after,  a  '  little  quiet'  "  Good-night.  Come  in 
and  speak  to  me  in  the  morning." 

She  went  in  in  the  morning.     He  seemed  more 


238  7I//55  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

feeble,  but  the  calm  and  quiet  filled  the  room  as 
before.  Helen  lingered  by  him.  Was  there  noth- 
ing she  could  do  for  him  ?  Was  her  hand  pleas- 
ant to  his  head  ?  Would  he  like  her  to  read  ? 

"  I  thank  you,  dear,  but  I  think  not." 

The  Bible  lay  on  the  table.  He  had  been  read- 
ing himself.  It  was  open  to  these  words — Helen 
saw  them  as  she  turned  away :  "  He  that  dwell- 
eth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High  shall 
abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty."  And 
he  needed  no  caressing.  He  had  lived  without 
the  tender  touch  of  loving  hands.  He  would  die 
without  it. 

So  all  that  Sunday  morning  Helen  sat  alone. 
There  was  a  little  autumn  chill  in  the  air,  and 
Mitty  had  made  a  bright  wood  fire  in  the  grate. 
Helen  held  a  book  of  sermons  in  her  hand,  but 
she  did  not  read.  The  flash  of  that  new  ring 
kept  coming  into  her  eyes,  and  her  thoughts 
were  busy  with  a  story  of  faithfulness  and  beau- 
tiful living,  better  than  a  sermon.  About  noon, 
the  doctor  came  down  stairs.  He  put  his  arm 
around  Helen  again.  There  was  no  one  to  call 
her  "  my  child"  any  more. 

Helen  stayed  at  home  two  weeks.  Aunt  Ma- 
tilda and  Uncle  Roger  drove  around  that  Sun- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  239 

day  afternoon,  and  urged  her  coming  to  their 
house,  but  she  refused.  Aunty  evidently  felt  a 
little  hurt,  and  thought  it  "  looked  strange,"  but 
could  not  change  her  mind.  There  were  many 
calls  from  Mr.  Saxton's  old  friends  that  week, 
and  she  felt  a  wish  to  see  them  all  and  show  them 
some  kindliness,  for  her  guardian's  sake.  Some 
of  them  had  things  to  tell  her  which  made  her 
proud  and  glad.  All  of  them  honored  and  loved 
him.  Perhaps  there  is  nothing  (on  the  human 
side)  any  of  us  need  so  much  wish  for,  in  death, 
as  to  be  thus  loved,  and  honored,  and  lamented, 
and  yet  to  leave  no  hearts  utterly  broken,  and  no 
lives  quite  desolate,  because  of  our  going  away. 
Besides  the  friends,  there  were  lawyers  coming 
and  going,  and  papers  to  be  heard  and  read.  When 
Mr.  Saxton's  will  was  opened,  it  was  found  to 
bequeath  liberal  sums  to  a  few  public  charities, 
many  smaller  sums  to  individuals,  a  thousand  to 
a  young  man  here,  another  to  a  poor  woman 
there,  and  the  rest  of  his  property,  without  re- 
serve, to  Helen.  She  was  a  rich  girl,  and  almost 
twenty-one.  The  house  and  furniture  he  ex- 
pressed a  wish  that  she  should  hold  and  make  use 
of  till  she  had  good  reasons  for  leaving  it.  To 
Mitty  a  liberal  annuity  was  given,  with  the  desire 


240  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

that  she  should  keep  her  post  as  housekeeper 
under  Miss  Roberts.  After  all  these  things  were 
settled,  Helen  thought  it  right  to  return  to  Ox- 
ford. She  longed  for  it  with  all  her  heart,  and 
surely  she  might  put  off  these  new  responsibili- 
ties till  after  her  birthday.  But  business  pur- 
sued her.  Uncle  Roger,  who,  since  her  guar- 
dian's death,  had  taken  a  great  interest  in  her 
concerns,  wrote  her  to  say  that  some  of  her  funds 
were  unwisely  invested.  The  stocks  were  falling 
fast.  The  companies  were  going  down ;  she 
ought  to  make  a  change. 

The  lawyers,  in  whose  hands  her  property  lay 
till  her  majority,  wrote  to  say  that  they  would 
like  to  consult  with  her  in  regard  to  the  disposi- 
tion of  some  unappropriated  money,  and  some 
which  it  might  be  well  to  transfer,  and  that  they 
thought  it  desirable  that  she  should  be  in  the  city 
that  winter,  if  possible. 

Uncle  Roger  wrote  again  to  say  that  he  knew 
of  a  most  magnificent  opportunity  for  investment, 
into  which  he  intended  to  put  every  thing  he 
had  ;  that  she  had  better  look  out  for  those  law- 
yers (they  were  tricky  fellows,  the  best  of  them), 
and  finally  that  he  thought  it  very  strange  that 
she  didn't  show  sufficient  interest  in  her  affairs  to 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE:  34! 

come  home  and  attend  to  them  ;  and  that,  under 
these  circumstances,  if  every  thing  went  to  ruin, 
it  would  not  be  at  all  singular. 

With  this  last  letter  Helen  went  to  Miss  Maria. 
"  I  am  afraid  I  ought  to  go/  she  said. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  I  believe  you  ought.  We 
must  take  things  as  fast  as  they  come,  in  this 
world,  and  sometimes  they  do  seem  to  come  very 
fast.  This  is  evidently  the  thing  for  you  now." 

"  And  when  I  have  settled  up  every  thing,  and 
am  a  rich  old  maid,  I'll  come  back  and  make 
myself  a  life-member,"  said  Helen,  trying  to 
smile,  but  with  a  wonderful  sinking  in  her  heart. 

So  she  went  that  very  afternoon  and  said  good- 
bye to  all  the  boys,  and  Mrs.  Mulligan,  and  Jim- 
my Ross,  who  drove  a  thriving  business  in  brack- 
ets by  this  time,  and  whom  she  made  happy,  by 
leaving  an  order  for  an  elaborate  book-rack. 

Last,  she  went  to  a  little  bit  of  a  neat  brown 
house,  in  a  comfortable  street.  Here  lived  the 
poor  woman  whose  husband  and  boy  had  died 
last  summer,  and  her  four  little  children  with  her. 
But,  instead  of  the  cooking-stove,  and  the  bed, 
and  the  lounge,  and  the  one  window,  there  was 
a  decent  little  parlor,  with  a  strip  of  carpeting 

across  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  green  paper 
ii 


242  MISS  XOBERTS'  FORTUNE, 

shades  at  the  windows,  and  back  of  it  a  bed-room 
and  a  kitchen.  This  woman  had  been  found  to 
possess  a  neat  little  trick  of  lace-mending  and  fine 
needlework,  and  had  been  appointed  seamstress 
extraordinary  for  the  Misses  Prescott  and  Miss 
Roberts,  and  gradually  for  several  ladies  on  the 
hill. 

"  Miss  Maria's  ingenuity  and  my  money  can  do 
something,"  thought  Helen,  surveying  the  little 
house.  "  But  I  can't  have  her  always.  The  only 
thing  for  me  to  do  is  to  go  to  work  and  get  an 
ingenuity  of  my  own." 

The  next  day  Helen  packed  her  books  and 
took  down  her  little  pictures,  and  brackets  and 
trifles,  and  by  Friday  morning  was  ready  to  go. 
The  morning  was  rainy  and  dull,  and  though  she 
resolved  in  her  heart  that  she  would  not  be  so 
till  she  got  away,  at  least,  it  was  a  little  hard  to 
help  it.  Professor  Wright,  who  had  a  standing 
invitation  to  drop  into  breakfast,  dine  or  sup  at 
any  time,  came  down  under  his  blue  umbrella 
this  morning.  It  was  good  to  see  him  again  (she 
had  said  good-bye  last  night)  and  precious  to  hear 
him  pray  once  more.  Helen  stopped  a  moment 
after  prayers  and  stood  at  the  window  looking 
up  the  familiar  street,  through  the  rain. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  243 

"  I  am  sorry  it  should  rain  to-day,"  said  Miss 
Maria,  flitting  off  to  see  the  butcher's  boy. 

"  And  when  you  came,  we  put  on  all  our  dia- 
monds. What  do  these  things  signify  ?"  said  the 
professor,  stepping  towards  the  window. 

Helen  smiled  in  the  midst  of  her  dismalness. 

"  I  only  know  that  I  don't  want  to  go.  And  it 
is  perfectly  useless  for  me  to  begin  to  thank  peo- 
ple,'" she  blundered  out.  She  hadn't  attempted 
any  thanks  last  night.  It  really  seemed  as  if  she 
ought  to. 

"  What  is  useless  and  unnecessary  needn't  be 
done,"  said  the  professor  in  a  deep,  kind  tone. 
"  But  you  will  come  and  see  us  sometimes  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  Do  you  ever  come  to  X ,  Pro- 
fessor Wright  ?" 

"  I  never  have  been  there,  but  I  think  I  shall 
go  sometime." 

The  college-bell  began  to  ring. 

"  No,  not  good-bye  yet.  I  will  see  you  at  the 
depot." 

But  he  took  her  hand,  and  held  it  for  a  moment 
before  he  went.  And  going  up-stairs  Helen  re- 
membered that  Mrs.  Haas  was  going  to  the  city 
by  the  same  train  that  would  take  her. 

The  wealthy  Miss   Roberts  found   plenty  of 


244  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

people  to  welcome  her  home.  The  new  minister 
called  immediately  —  a  young  man  fresh  from  the 
seminary,  with  bright  black  eyes  and  a  broad 
forehead,  from  which  his  long  hair  was  brushed 
back  in  a  superior  sort  of  way,  which  the  young 
ladies  thought  charming. 

Ladies  came  in  in  the  mornings.  They  sup- 
posed she  was  not  "  going  out  "  much,  or  seeing 
a  great  deal  of  company,  but  they  felt  as  if  they 
must  come  in,  they  thought  of  her  so  much,  etc. 

But  Uncle  Roger  and  the  lawyers  were  more 
attentive  than  anybody  else.  The  senior  member 
of  the  firm  with  which  Mr.  Saxton  had  left  his 
business,  was  away  in  Europe.  He  was  a  gentle- 
man of  a  reverend  white  head,  a  small  voice,  a 
red  face,  and  a  gold-headed  cane,  for  whom  Helen 
had  a  respect,  chiefly  founded  on  the  facts  that 
she  had  seen  him  talking  with  her  guardian  once 
in  his  office-door,  and  that  he  sat  near  them  in 
church.  She  would  much  rather  have  talked 
with  him  about  her  business  than  with  these 
younger  gentlemen,  who  seamed  to  know  so  much. 
They  talked  about  stocks  and  bonds  in  a  way 
that  bewildered  her.  The  "Air-Line"  was  up, 
the  "  Under-Ground"  was  down;  the  "Bee-Line" 
(Uncle  Roger  put  in)  was  carrying  everything 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


245 


before  it.  She  remembered  perfectly  well  all 
that  her  guardian  had  told  her  about  her  own 
property,  but  the  greater  part  of  her  wealth  had 
come  from  him,  and  he  had  said  nothing  of  that. 

"  Well,  Uncle  Roger,"  she  said  at  last  one  day, 
after  having  patiently  heard  the  Bee-Line  consti- 
tution expounded  for  the  third  or  fourth  time,  "  I 
am  sure  I  thank  you  very  much  for  your  interest, 
but  I  believe  I  have  decided  not  to  do  anything 
about  it.  I  prefer  to  leave  things  just  as  my  guard- 
ian left  them,  for  the  present,  at  least,  even  if  I  do 
lose  by  it.  I  am  sure  he  was  the  most  success- 
ful and  the  most  careful  of  men,  and  things  can't 
have  changed  so  in  this  short  time." 

"  That  shows  just  how  little  you  know  about 
it,  child.  Money  is  constantly  changing  hands. 
A  sharp  business  man  is  always  on  the  look-out. 
I  don't  doubt  your  guardian  would  have  made  a 
change  by  this  time.  If  you're  not  up  to  the 
tricks,  you'll  never  keep  your  money  anyway. 
May  as  well  lose  it  all  at  once." 

This  was  puzzling,  but  somehow  she  believed 
she  was  right. 

"  I  do  mean  to  be  up  to  the  tricks,"  she  said. 
"After  my  birthday  I'm  going  to  be  my  own  law- 
yer, and  manage  things  myself.  Indeed,  I  have 


246  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

looked  in  the  papers  a  good  deal  already,  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  Under-Ground  stock  is  just 
as  good  as  any  other — higher  than  a  great  many," 
and  she  named  several  popular  companies. 

"Tricks  of  the  trade  —  tricks  of  the  trade. 
Bubble's  always  biggest  just  before  it  bursts," 
said  the  man  of  business,  and  he  drew  up  his 
chair  and  entered  into  another  long  exposition. 

"  Nevertheless  —  I  don't  mean  to  be  obstinate, 
Uncle  Roger  —  but  I  really  can't  change  my  mind 
about  it  to-night,  I  must  think  of  it  a  little  long- 
er," she  said  distinctly,  before  he  went  away. 

The  next  morning  the  young  lawyer  called 
around.  He  was  in  favor  of  the  Air-Line,  and 
rather  down  on  the  Bee-Line.  Helen  repeated 
her  determination  to  leave  things  as  they  were. 

"  Of  course  we  shall  be  glad  to  consult  your 
wishes,  Miss  Roberts,  but  you  remember  that 
the  property  is  put  into  our  hands  to  manage 
until  your  majority.  We  hold  it  our  duty  to  act 
according  to  our  best  judgment  in  every  re- 
spect." 

This  was  a  blow  most  unexpected.  In  all  the 
polite  consultation  she  had  really  almost  forgot- 
ten that  she  was  not  a  major. 

"  Then  I'll  leave  it  with  them,"  she  thought. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  247 

"  My  guardian  chose  them.  He  must  have 
trusted  them,  and  I  will." 

But  that  very  evening,  after  she  had  gone  up- 
stairs and  was  reading  in  her' room,  Uncle  Roger 
came  again  and  the  lawyer  with  him.  They  had 
been  consulting  together.  New  facts  had  been 
elicited  in  regard  to  the  Bee -Line.  The  first 
dividends  had  come  in.  The  lawyer  was  inclined 
to  think,  etc.,  etc. 

"Very  well,"  said  Helen.  "It  seems  it  can 
make  very  little  difference  what  I  think  about  it. 
And,  besides,  of  course  you  do  know  a  great  deal 
better  than  I  do  what  is  best,"  she  added,  a  pretty, 
womanly  graciousness  coming  into  her  voice  and 
manner.  And  the  gentlemen  bowed  and  smiled 
themselves  away. 

After  the  lawyers  were  less  attentive,  there 
were  some  hours  quite  alone  and  desolate.  The 
good  old  doctor  came  in  during  one  of  these 
times,  and,  after  he  had  said  good-morning  and 
reached  the  door,  came  back  into  the  library. 

"  I  wish  you  would  put  on  your  hat,  and  come 
with  me  fof  a  few  minutes.  I  would  like  to  show 
you  one  of  my  patients." 

Helen  made  herself  ready,  asking  no  questions, 
and  they  soon  stopped  before  a  block  of  brick 


248  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

buildings  in  one  of  the  business  streets.  They 
went  up  many  stairs,  and  the  doctor  knocked  at 
the  door  of  a  room  in  one  of  the  upper  stories. 
Helen  did  not  notice  whether  it  was  in  the  third 
or  fourth.  It  was  not  at  all  a  mean  room,  though 
very  plain  and  even  poor.  There  were  a  few 
books  on  a  table,  and  an  easel  and  artist's  mate- 
rials in  a  corner.  There  was  a  very  low  fire  in 
the  grate,  and  it  was  a  chilly  autumn  morning. 
On  a  bed  in  one  corner  sat  a  middle-aged  woman 
—  a  lady  by  face  and  voice  —  bending  over  a  large 
card-board,  on  which  she  was  illuminating  a  Scrip- 
ture text.  A  small,  thin  shawl  was  pinned  about 
her  shoulders.  She  looked  cold,  tired,  ill  —  not 
able  to  do  even  the  light  work  she  was  doing. 
The  doctor  evidently  thought  so,  too,  for  he  went 
directly  to  her,  took  the  card-board  out  of  her 
hand,  and  gently  laid  her  back  on  the  pillow. 
She  smiled  a  pleasant,  almost  merry  smile. 
"  Now,  will  you  introduce  me  to  your  friend  ?" 
The  doctor  performed  the  ceremony,  and  Helen 
was  at  home  immediately.  The  three  fell  at  once 
into  an  easy  general  conversation.  Mrs.  Moore 
talked  of  everything  heartily,  intelligently,  and 
with  a  certain  charm  of  cheerfulness  that  Helen 
had  never  seen  equalled,  even  in  Miss  Maria. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Helen  had  never  seen  any  one  she  liked  so  well 
on  so  short  an  acquaintance.  But  she  was  a  lit- 
tle puzzled.  What  did  the  doctor  bring  her  here 
for  ?  This  was  surely  not  a  charity  patient.  And 
yet  —  she  looked  about  the  bare  room  and  at  the 
little  cheerless  fire. 

"  How  does  my  picture  come  on  ?"  said  the 
doctor  at  length,  with  a  glance  at  the  easel. 

"  Ah,  doctor  !  you  are  too  transparent.  I  am 
sure  your  office  cannot  hold  another  picture. 
Harry  is  working  away  at  it,  though.  Here  he 
comes  !" 

In  at  the  door  came  a  handsome,  tall  boy 
of  fourteen  or  fifteen.  He  bowed  and  shook 
hands  with  the  doctor,  but  did  not  speak,  and 
his  mother  only  smiled  at  him  without  speaking. 

"  This  is  Harry  —  my  silent  boy,"  she  said  pre- 
sently, turning  to  Helen,  and  Helen  thought  with 
a  proud  look  on  her  face.  And  then  she  said  a 
few  words  to  him  in  the  deaf  and  dumb  language, 
and  he  came  up  with  his  bright  eyes  and  ready 
smile,  and  shook  hands  with  Helen.  Then  he 
went  to  the  easel  in  the  corner.  The  doctor  fol- 
lowed him,  and  had  a  few  words  with  him  on 
paper  about  the  picture,  and  then  it  was  time  to 

go,  and  theyleft.     The  doctor  looked  in  at  an- 
11* 


2cjO  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

other  door  before  going  down  stairs.  The  room 
into  which  this  opened  served  as  a  kitchen  to  the 
other  apartment,  by  a  window  in  the  sun  sat  an 
old  woman,  shivering  and  drawing  a  faded  shawl 
about  her.  The  doctor,  without  a  W9rd,  put  a 
bank-note  into  her  hand. 

"The  Lord  bless  you,  doctor,"  said  the  old 
woman,  her  face  brightening  wonderfully,  "for 
that  handful  of  coals  in  the  grate  is  the  last  that 
we  have,  and  I  couldn't  bear  to  tell  her.  And 
she  awondering  why  I  don't  have  time  to  come 
and  fix  the  fire  !  And  there  isn't  but  five  cents 
in  the  purse  for  dinner,  unless  Master  Harry  sold 
a  picture  while  he  was  out  just  now.'" 

Helen  quickly  opened  her  purse  and  pressed 
another  bill  into  the  old  woman's  hand. 

"  Do  tell  me  about  her,  doctor,"  she  said,  as 
soon  as  they  were  in  the  carriage. 

"  All  I  know,"  said  the  doctor,  "  is  that  she  is 
a  minister's  widow,  and  that  I  have  always  found 
'her  just  what  you  saw  her  this  morning." 

"  I  thank  you  for  taking  me  there,"  said  Helen. 


"  So  others  shall 

Take  patience,  labor,  to  their  heart  and  hand 
From  thy  heart,  and  thy  hand,  and  thy  brave  cheer, 
And  God's  grace  fructify  through  thee  to  all. 
The  least  flower  with  a  brimming  cup  may  stand, 
And  share  its  dewdrop  with  another  near." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"TVTOT  many  days  after  the  "  events  narrated 
-fc-^i  in  the  last  chapter,"  Miss  Roberts'  glossy 
carnage,  with  the  shining  black  horses  and  coach- 
man, drew  up  before  that  same  block  of  build- 
ings on  Water  St.  And  a  few  minutes  thereafter 
Miss  Roberts  herself,  with  a  basket  of  flowers  in 
her  hand,  stood  at  the  door  in  the  third  or  fourth 
story,  knocking  a  little  timidly.  Nothing  had 
been  said  about  her  coming  again,  and  Mrs. 
Moore  was  clearly  not  a  person  one  could  make 
a  charity  of  visiting. 

Mrs.  Moore  would  probably  have  been  unable 
to  say,  at  that  moment,  whether  she  cared  to  see 
the  young  lady  again.  But  Helen's  honest  eyes 
and  simple  manner  settled  the  question  at  once. 

"  May  I  come  again  ?     I  wanted  to." 

"  You  are  very  good  to  come  again.  And  — 
Oh,  those  flowers!  —  please  find  a  seat."  But 
Harry  had  already  brought  up  a  chair. 

There  was  a  better  fire  in  the  grate  this  time. 

(*S3) 


254  Jinss  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Otherwise,  the  room  was  the  same.  The  card- 
board and  illuminating  materials  were  again  on 
the  bed,  but  they  had  been  moved  aside  to  make 
a  place  for  Harry's  books.  There  was  a  history, 
an  algebra,  and,  to  Helen's  surprise,  a  Latin 
grammar,  and  Sallust.  The  morning  lessons 
were  evidently  going  on,  and  Helen  said  some- 
thing politely  about  interrupting.  But  Harry, 
who  seemed  to  take  in  everything  that  was  said 
through  his  bright  eyes,  bowed  himself  away  to 
the  table  with  his  algebra,  and  was  lost  to  every- 
thing but  that  in  a  moment. 

"  I  have  always  attended  to  Harry's  lessons 
myself,"  said  Mrs.  Moore,  seeing  Helen's  interest 
in  the  books.  "  Of  course,  he  is  not  open  to  ordi- 
nary schooling,  and  I  could  not  send  him  to  an 
institution.  He  has  been  able  thus  far.  to  keep 
up  with  boys  of  his  own  age,  and,  what  is  per- 
haps a  little  strange,  he  is  particularly  fond  of 
language.  His  father  thought  that  he  had  bet- 
ter be  fitted  for  college,  at  least.  But  his  fond- 
ness for  painting  is  of  so  great  practical  use  to 
us  now,  and,  indeed,  probably  always  will  be  to 
him,  so  much  more  useful  than  anything  else 
could  be,  that  we  are  giving  a  good  deal  of  time 
to  that  now.  Have  you  been  well  ?"  she  added, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUXE. 


255 


politely,  conscious  of  having  talked  a  long  time 
of  her  own  affairs,  and  leaning  back  a  little  wearily 
on  her  pillow. 

She  looked  still .  paler  and  more  feeble  than 
she  had  looked  before,  and  Helen  knew  that 
that  bed-covering  was  too  thin.  Peter  had  been 
told  it  was  to  be  a  short  call,  but  still  Helen  sat 
by  the  bed  till,  at  least,  half  an  hour  had  passed. 

They  talked,  as  before,  of  everything, — books, 
places,  characters,  pictures.  Very  few  personal 
questions  were  asked  on  either  side,  but  Helen, 
in  some  way,  discovered  that  Mrs.  Moore  had 
not  walked  for  two  years,  and  that  there  was  no 
hope  of  her  ever  being  well.  Harry,  after  a 
while,  left  his  book,  and,  with  .his  little  pocket- 
slate  and  pencil,  joined  in  the  conversation,  and 
afterwards  showed  Helen  his  pictures.  She  did 
not  consider  herself  a  judge  of  such  matters,  but 
they  seemed  to  her  remarkably  good.  She  want- 
ed to  order  one  for  herself,  but  hardly  felt  free 
enough  at  present. 

After  she  left  them,  following  the  doctor's  ex- 
ample, she  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  next  room. 
The  old  servant  was  there  again,  this  time  bend- 
ing over  the  stove,  stirring  something  that  looked 
like  hominy. 


256  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  Come  in,  miss,  I'm  hearty  glad  to  see  you," 
she  said,  wiping  her  hands  and  setting  out  a  chair. 

"  I've  been  calling  on  Mrs.  Moore.  I  came  to 
ask  you  if  you  are  in  need  of  anything  to-day," 
said  Helen,  a  little  bashfully.  She  was  not  much 
accustomed  to  these  things. 

"  Thank  the  Lord,  miss,  we  have  everything 
we  need  to-day.  There's  two  dollars  in  the 
purse.  You  and  the  doctor  was  very  kind,  miss," 
she  continued,  fancying  that  the  young  lady 
looked  surprised.  "  You  was  very  kind,  and 
Miss  Mary  (she  always  called  Mrs.  Moore  Miss 
Mary)  has  sold  two  more  of  her  little  things,  but 
the  money  had  to  go.  She  must  have  medicines 
and  things  to  eat.  But  there's  nothing  now  but 
the  rent.  The  rent  comes  due  to-morrow.  She 
was  talking  about  it  to-day.  She  said  she  could  n't 
think  of  another  thing  to  do,  nor  nothing  more 
to  sell,  but  she  believed  the  Lord  would  provide. 
She  would  wait.  Perhaps  some  of  them  as  owed 
her  husband  would  have  -it  put  into  their  hearts 
to  pay." 

"  The  Lord  will  provide,"  said  Helen,  solemnly. 

It  was  a  very  solemn  thing  to  her,  that  she  was 
beginning  to  be  used  ;  that  He  was  letting  her  do 
something — just  a  little  even. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


257 


"  I  shall  see  you  again  soon,"  she  said  to  the 
old  woman,  and  left. 

"  Where  next,  miss  ?"  said  Peter  from  the  box, 
when  she  had  shut  herself  into  the  carriage  and 
leaned  back,  expecting  him  to  start. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  Peter — anywhere  —  drive 
around  a  little  —  out  on  the  harbor  road  —  till  I 
think." 

She  did  think,  looking  steadily  out  of  the  win- 
dow. 

"  Now,  Peter,"  at  length  came  the  clear,  de- 
cided voice — "  now  down  to  Mr.  Mowry's  office. 
You  know  where  that  is — on  Water  Street,  I  be- 
lieve." 

Peter,  deeply  meditating  on  that  characteristic 
of  the  female  human  mind,  which  resulted,  in 
this  instance,  in  his  driving  back  over  ground  he 
had  just  traversed  to  a  spot  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  the  place  he  had  just  left,  turned  the 
black  horses  and  started  for  the  city. 

Mr.  Mowry  was  the  gentleman  who  owned 
Mowry's  building,  at  least  Helen  judged  that  to 
be  the  case  from  the  circumstance  of  his  name 
being  attached  to  the  building,  and  she  found 
herself  correct.  Before  she  left  the  gentleman's 
office  she  had  paid  the  rent  of  those  two  rooms 


258  MISS  ROBERTS    FORTUNE. 

in  the  third  story  for  three  months  in  advance, 
and  tucked  the  receipt  carefully  into  the  inner 
compartment  of  her  portmonnaie.  Then  she 
went  home  and  thought  some  more. 

She  did  not  like  to  force  this  little  bit  of  a  kind 
thing  on  Mrs.  Moore's  attention  at  once. 

She  would  rather  she  should  not  know  of  it  at 
all.  And  yet  she  could  not  quite  bring  her  mind 
to  plotting  even  thus  benevolently  with  the  old 
servant  about  her  mistress's  affairs.  It  suited  her 
better  to  be  honest.  Besides,  Mrs.  Moore  had  a 
right  to  know,  and  if  she  did  not  know  would 
be  likely  to  be  troubled  and .  anxious,  or,  at  the 
best,  suspect.  It  occurred  to  her  to  tell  the  doc- 
tor, and  let  Mrs.  Moore  think  herself  indebted  to 
him.  But  she  thought  she  would  rather  tell  Mrs. 
Moore  than  the  doctor.  She  resolved  on  a  com- 
promise. She  would  do  nothing  about  it  just 
now.  The  bill  would  not  be  sent  in,  and  there 
would  be  no  immediate  distress.  She  would 
stay  away  from  Mowry's  building  for  a  few 
days. 

Meantime,  there  was  plenty  to  keep  her  busy. 
She  was  not  yet  fairly  settled  as  mistress  of  her 
beautiful  house.  It  was  desirable  that  she  should 
look  over  everything  with  Mitty,  and  learn  what 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  259 

her  possessions  really  were.  She  felt  a  wish  to 
open  every  individual  book  in  the  library,  and 
some  of  them  she  found  so  full  of  pencil -marks 
by  her  guardian's  hand  that  she  was  tempted  to 
linger  long  over  their  pages.  Mr.  Saxton's  papers 
(those  which  the  lawyers  had  left)  it  was  not  easy 
for  her  to  look  at  yet.  She  found  two  or  three 
packets  of  old  letters  tied  together,  and  directed 
to  herself,  and  some  directed  to  other  persons. 
These  latter  she  sent  away  at  once.  Then  she 
locked  the  secret  drawer  and  put  the  key  on  her 
watch-chain.  Into  the  other  parts  of  the  secre- 
tary she  removed  her  own  dainty,  little,  lady-like 
writing  materials.  She  had  a  feeling  that  her 
guardian  would  like  to  have  her  use.it. 

The  family  pictures,  old-fashioned  portraits  of 
ladies  in  low-necked  dresses,  with  stiff  roses  and 
mammoth  fans  in  their  hands,  and  of  gray-wigged 
gentlemen  in  ruffled  shirts,  were  brought  over 
from  Uncle  Roger's  and  hung  in  the  spacious 
hall.  Her  mother's  portrait  was  placed  in  her 
own  room,  where  she  could  see  it  from  her  bed 
as  in  her  childish  days.  She  had  never  loved  it 
so  well  as  now. 

Two  or  three  days  having  passed  thus  busily, 
Helen  dispatched  a  note  one  morning  to  Mrs. 


26o  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Moore,  and  at  five  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  that 
morning-,  Harry  kissed  his  mother  good-bye  and 
started  in  the  early  autumn  twilight  for  the 
avenue. 

Helen  sat  by  the  library  table  in  the  soft  light 
of  the  porcelain  shade,  and  with  the  glow  of  the 
anthracite  fire  behind  her,  when  the  boy  brought 
his  bright  eyes  and  handsome  face  into  the  pic- 
ture. A  pretty,  hospitable  grace  came  upon  the 
little  lady  as  she  rose  to  welcome  her  guest,  and 
drew  him  toward  the  fire,  and  took  his  little  slate 
and  pencil  from  him,  that  he  should  not  write  till 
he  had  warmed  his  hands.  He  sat  down  by  her 
side  and  the  two  kept  up  a  lively  conversation  in 
that  quietest  of  ways.  It  might  have  seemed  a 
pitiful  way,  had  it  not  been  for  the  great  intelli- 
gence of  the  boy's  face,  and  the  ease  and  cheerful- 
ness of  his  whole  manner.  But  it  was  far  too  slow. 

"  I  must  learn  your  alphabet,"  wrote  Helen  on 
the  slate.  "  You  must  teach  me  after  tea." 

Mitty,  from  behind  the  tea-pots,  looked  with 
blank  amaze  on  the  young  visitor.  She  shrieked 
and  battered  on  the  tray  to  see  if  he  would  take 
a  cup  of  tea,  and  gesticulated  in  such  a  remarka- 
ble manner  about  the  cream  and  sugar,  that  the 
polite  little  fellow  had  all  he  could  do  to  keep 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  26l 

from  laughing.  After  tea,  when  Miss  Roberts 
had  ordered  "  all  them  chanticleers"  lighted  in  the 
large  parlors,  and  -the  strange  boy  was  taken  in 
to  see  the  pictures,  she  followed  in  her  black  silk 
dress  and  stateliest  air  to  watch  for  further  devel- 
opments. 

Mr.  Saxton  was  a  man  of  taste  and  culture, 
and  the  pictures  he  had  purchased  from  time  to 
time  were  good  and  rare  ones.  Harry  was  de- 
lighted. His  bright  eyes  sometimes  danced,  and 
sometimes  grew  dark  and  serious.  He  came 
back  to  Helen,  who  sat  in  a  low  chair,  watching 
him  as  he  made  the  tour  of  the  room,  and  point- 
ed out  those  he  liked  best  with  a  glowing  face. 

"  You  love  your  art  very  much  ?"  asked  Helen, 
on  the  slate,  tlis  face  gave  the  answer. 

"  It  is  my  life,"  he  said.  "  The  pictures  talk 
to  me.  They  say  so  much  to  me." 

"  Do  you  love  them  better  than  your  books  ?" 

"  They  come  nearer  to  me,  }  js.  Yet  I  like  the 
others  very  much.  I  like  the  Latin.  The  mean- 
ing fits  in  so  well." 

"  You  intend  to  be  an  artist  ?" 

His  face  was  a  little  grave  as  he  wrote  the 
answer,  "  I  hope  so.  I  mean  to  be  all  I  can 
be." 


262  yf/AS'S  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"Have  you  any  plans?" 

He  shook  his  head.  "  I  must  wait  and  see." 
That  seemed  to  be  the  family  motto. 

"Any  friends?" 

He  looked  puzzled.  "  My  mother  and  the 
doctor — " 

Helen  pointed  to  herself  inquiringly.  He 
smiled  and  bowed  a  pleasant  assent. 

Harry  reported  his  mother  not  quite  so  well. 
It  was  time  for  another  call  Helen  thought,  and 
she  felt  ready  for  it  after  that  pleasant  evening. 
It  was  one  of  the  pleasantest  evenings  she  could 
remember,  excepting,  of  course,  some  at  Oxford. 

Before  she  set  out  the  next  morning,  she  had  a 
little  colloquy  with  herself  in  her  bed -room. 
"  I'll  take  that  crimson  coverlet."  "  Why  do  you 
take  that?  There  are  plenty  of  nice  bed-quilts 
in  the  closets,  or  blankets.  Blankets  are  very 
useful  things."  "  Because,  it's  a  sort  of  a  luxury, 
a  dainty.  It  will  be  easier  for  her  to  take  such  a 
thing  than  it  would  be  to  take  a  great  blanket, 
lugged  in  as  a  charity.  Besides,  it  is  lighter  and 
pleasanter  on  one's  bed."  "  Perhaps  it  won't  be 
warm  enough."  "  Yes,  it  will.  You  know  down 
is  warm  enough."  "  Now,  Helen  Roberts,  you 
stop  that'''  "  But  this  a  color  and  style  you  par- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  263 

ticularly  fancy.  You  could  buy  her  a  down  cov- 
erlet if  you  wanted  to.  You  are  rich  enough, 
and  there  are  plenty  of  them  at  Haberdasher's." 
"No,  I'll  have  this  one.  I'll  have  it  because 
you  like  it,  Helen  Roberts.  It  will  do  you  good 
to  miss  it.  And  I  won't  get  you  another  for  a 
month,  and  not  then,  unless  you  behave  yourself. 
I  heard  a  good  man  say  once  that  we  have  no 
right  to  condemn  the  penances  and  mortifications 
of  the  Roman  Catholics,  unless  we  have  some- 
thing better  to  substitute  for  them,  that  it  takes 
a  long  time  to  reach  the  point  where  we  can  live 
sweet  and  saintly  lives  spontaneously — without 
some  help  of  this  kind — and  that  if  we  would 
lift  up  our  lives  and  make  them  Christ-like,  it  is 
almost  indispensable  to  deny  ourselves,  on  prin- 
ciple, systematically,  and  for  the  sake  of  denying 
ourselves.  I  remember  so  well  when  he  said 
that.  We  were  in  the  summer-house,  and  Miss 
Haas  had  gone  in,  and  I  was  feeling  naughty 
about  something,  and  said  something  about  pun- 
ishing myself,  and  he  asked  if  that  did  any  good, 
and — there,  my  dear,  I  guess  you  had  better 
stop  that,  too.  Come  along  with  your  crimson 
coverlet.  Here's  Peter  waiting." 

The   crimson  coverlet,  and  Miss  Roberts  be- 


2  64  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

hind  it,  were  very  soon  in  that  third  story  room 
of  Howry's  building.  "  I  brought  you  this,"  said 
Helen,  blushing  brightly.  "  It  is  light  and 
pleasant  sometimes  when  one  does  n't  feel  strong. 
And  this,  too — may  I  ?"  she  said,  feeling  sud- 
denly that  it  might  as  well  all  be  over  with  at 
once,  and  drawing  out  the  receipt.  "  And  if 
you  knew  how  much  more  of  a  favor  it  is  to  me 
than  it  can  possibly  be  to  you,  you  would  n't — 
please — I  know  you  would  n't  thank  me,"  she 
added,  hurriedly,  looking  very  much  as  if  she 
had  a  great  mind  to  run  right  away.  A  strange, 
bright,  loving  look  came  to  Mrs.  Hoore's  face. 
Perhaps  no  one  had  ever  seen  Helen  when  she 
was  worthier  to  be  loved. 

"  No,  I  won't  thank  you,  dear,  since  you  ask 
it,"  said  the  lady,  "  but  if  you  will  come  here,  I 
should  like  to  kiss  you,  if  I  may."  And  Helen 
sat  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  for  half  an  hour.  Not 
that  they  were  sentimental  at  all.  That  would 
have  spoiled  it  all  for  Helen.  But  Hrs.  Hoore 
kissed  her  once  heartily  and  fondly,  and  then  they 
talked  of  everything  and  were  friends. 

In  a  few  weeks  Harry  Hoore  was  taking  daily 

lessons  of  Professor ,  Helen's  old  French 

drawing-master  (the  best  in  X ),  who  was  de- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  26$ 

lighted  with  the  boy's  taste  and  skill,  and  proph- 
esied great  things  of  him.  Miss  Roberts  also, 
now  quite  practiced  in  the  sign  language,  had  a 
pupil  daily  in  history  and  algebra.  Mrs.  Moore 
begged  to  keep  the  Latin  as  long  as  she  was 
able,  but  she  was  failing  constantly  now. 

These  things,  with  the  making  herself  at  home 
in  the  library,  and  the  German  readings  which 
she  kept  up,  albeit  a  little  dolefully,  and  the  let- 
ters to  Oxford,  and  the  weekly  dinner  at  Uncle 
Roger's,  and  the  consolations  of  the  young  min- 
ister, and  the  droppings  in  of  the  friendly  ladies, 
preserved  our  young  lady  from  ennui,  and  made 
the  days  hurry  on  towards  Christmas. 

Aunt  Matilda  and  Lily  were  very  friendly,  but 
as  they  "  went  out"  so  much  and  Helen  so  little, 
they  did  not  meet  so  often  as  might  have  been 
the  case. 

"  I  must  go  and  see  them  oftener,"  said  Helen 
to  herself  (having  nobody  else  to  talk  to,,  you 
perceive  that  this  "young  lady  talks  a  great  deal 
to  herself) ;  "  I  must  go  oftener.  Lily  wonders 
where  I  can  be,  when  she  calls  in  the  mornings 
and  finds  me  out.  She  thinks  it  is  queer  that  I 
only  go  there  when  I'm  invited.  It  is  queer.  It 
isn't  right."  So  she  went  around  that  very 

12 


266  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

morning,   for  a  little    call,   on    her   way   down 
town. 

Aunt  Matilda  was  in  the  up-stairs  sitting-room, 
busily  engaged  on  a  white  muslin  over-dress. 
"  We're  trying  to  get  it  done  for  Mrs.  Howe's  to- 
night. There  have  been  so  many  parties  this 
week  that  Lily  has  worn  almost  every  thing  she 
has,  except  the  pink  and  point  lace.  She's  sav- 
ing that  for  Mrs.  Smith's,  next  week.  This  over 
the  blue  silk  will  be  a  pretty  change.  We  did 
think  we  could  make  something  else  do  (the  bed 
was  piled  high  with  silks  and  laces),  but  Emma 
Raymond  came  in  and  said  that  she  was  going 
to  wear  lilac,  and  Jenny  Osborne  is  going  to  wear 
lilac — so  lilac  wouldn't  do,  and  we've  been  so 
troubled  about  it,  but  finally  decided  on  this." 

The  seamstress  was  busy,  in  another  room,  on 
the  waist,  and  Lily,  tired  out  and  listless,  was 
working  away  on  a  ruffle.  Both  the  ladies  con- 
fessed themselves  "perfectly  used  up"  with  the 
week's  dissipations.  Helen  happily  bethought 
herself  in  time,  and  offered  to  take  another  ruffle 
and  sew  for  awhile. 

"  Oh,  that's  charming  of  you,  dear,  and  stay  to 
lunch  ;  why  can't  )^ou  ?  and  let  me  send  the  car- 
riage away." 


MISS  ROBERTS  FORTUNE.  26/ 

So  the  call  lengthened  out  into  quite  a  visit, 
and  would  have  been  a  very  pleasant  and  chatty 
one,  if  the  ladies  had  not  been  so  exceedingly  tired. 

"Why  must  you  go  to-night,  Lily?"  Helen 
ventured  to  ask. 

"  That's  just  what  father  says,"  said  Lily.  "  He 
says  he  doesn't  see  why  we  will  come  home  and 
scold  about  one  party,  and  work  all  day  to  go  to 
another.  But  nobody  knows  any  thing  about  it 
who  isn't  in  society.  You  would  understand  it, 
if  you  went  out  more.  And,  then,  if  you  could 
dance  and  carry  on,  you  would  feel  differently. 
Why,  of  course,  I  must  go." 

"  We  owe  some  duties  to  society,"  said  Aunt 
Matilda,  who  always  uttered  that  solemn  truth 
with  an  implicit  faith  that  was  beautiful  to 
behold.  "  And  then — why,  Mrs.  Howe  was  here 
last  week  at  our  little  company,  and  she  would 
think  it  very  strange — and  the  Gleasons,  cousins 
of  the  Huntingtons,  from  Chicago,  are  here. 
They  thought  they  were  going  to  carry  every 
thing  before  them,  the  girls  say.  They  are  ex- 
tremely stylish  and  very  sweet  girls — but  Lily's 
Paris  dresses  have  rather  taken  them  down.  Oh, 
certainly,  I  think  Lily  ought  to  go  to  Mrs. 
Howe's." 


268  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

This  process  of  reasoning  appeared  unanswer- 
able, and  Helen  kept  silence. 

"  I  wish  you  could  go  to  the  sociables,  dear," 
added  the  kind-hearted  woman,  noticing  a  serious 
look  on  Helen's  face.  "  Do  you  know,  I  think, 
by  spring  you  might  begin  to  go  out, — in  a  black 
silk  and  white  over-dress,  or  something  of  the 
kind.  I  think  it  would  be  quite  proper.  Why, 
Mary  Blake,  whose  step-brother  died  in  July,  was 
at  the  party  last  night — only  five  months ;  and, 
in  your  case,  where  there  is  no  relationship — " 

Helen's  face  grew  hot.  She  thought  it  was 
about  time  to  go,  and  went  to  the  window  to  look 
for  Peter,  and  cool  herself  down  a  little.  "  I  be- 
lieve Aunt  Matilda  sincerely  pit'/-  me  because 
I  dgn't  go  to  these  affairs,"  she  thought,  pressing 
her  forehead  against  the  cool  pane.  "  People 
tell  about  the  butterfly  giddiness  of  the  '  votaries 
of  pleasure.'  It  isn't  that  that  appalls  me.  It  is 
the  dead  earnest  they  are  in — the  hard  work  they 
do — the  solemnity  of  the  thing."  And,  having 
relieved  herself  by  these  reflections,  she  went 
back  to  the  ruffles  and  sewed  half  an  hour 
longer. 

Then  Peter  came,  and  they  we  t  down  among 
the  gay  and  crowded  shops.  It  was  the  day  be- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  269 

fore  Christmas,  and  the  streets  were  full  of  smil- 
ing, busy,  happy  people.  Bless  God  for  Christ- 
mas !  for  the  one  day  in  the  year  when  every  body 
loves  and  every  body  is  loved ;  when  the  little 
children  and  the  poor  are  near  to  every  body's 
heart, 

"  And  those  that  scarcely  all  the  year 
Had  bread  to  eat  or  rags  to  wear, 
Will  have  both  clothes  and  dainty  fare, 
And  all  the  day  be  merry." 

Helen  drove  back  along  the  avenue  out  towards 
the  golden  winter  sunset,  with  her  lap  full  of 
various  paper  parcels,  big  and  little,  for  the 
Christmas  of  her  household,  but  indulging  never- 
theless in  a  strain  of  selfish  melancholy.  To- 
morrow would  be  her  birthday.  Twenty-one, 
and  all  alone ! 

That  very  Christmas  eve,  looking  at  the  same 
golden  sunset,  another  girl,  a  little  older  than 
Helen,  came  up  the  avenue.  She  was  walking 
briskly,  but  Miss  Roberts'  carriage  passed  her 
just  before  it  reached  her  house  and  turned  in 
under  the  arched  gateway.  From  the  depot 
across  the  city  to  Shady  street  was  a  long  walk, 
and  one  need  be  brisk  on  such  a  frosty  evening. 
Susy  Converse  hurried  along,  her  black  eyes 


270  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

shining  and  her  cheeks  glowing,  though  there 
was  nobody  to  see  in  the  gathering  darkness. 
At  length  she  stopped  before  a  small  house,  and 
putting  down  her  bag  on  the  door-step  and  tak- 
ing a  key  from  her  pocket,  she  opened  the  door 
with  as  little  noise  as  possible.  "  I  guess  mother 
doesn't  know  I  have  my  key  with  me.  I'll  aston- 
ish her,"  she  thought.  She  felt  her  way  through 
a  dark  and  narrow  hall,  and  suddenly  opened  the 
door,  as  far  as  it  would  open,  into  a  brightly- 
lighted  little  sitting-room.  In  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  in  a  statuesque  attitude,  stood  a  funny  little 
woman,  dressed  in  a  purple  and  black  brocade 
silk,  with  remarkable  arrangements  of  pink  rib- 
bons and  black  lace  at  the  top  of  her  head.  Her 
dark  hair  was  brushed  smoothly  down  on  her 
cheek,  after  the  fashion  of  the  bonnet-blocks  one 
may  sometimes  see  to  this  day  in  an  old-fashioned 
milliner's  shop,  and  then  carried  back  to  fall  be- 
hind her  ear  in  two  small  curls.  This  little  lady 
was  evidently  in  the  midst  of  a  profound  curtsey 
when  the  door  opened,  and  the  object  of  her 
homage  was  the  tall,  light-haired  amused-looking 
young  man  whose  back,  opposed  to  the  opened 
door,  had  formed  the  obstacle  to  Susy's  imme- 
diate progress.  The  statuesque  little  lady  was 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE:  2? I 

evidently  very  much  horrified  by  this  sudden 
irruption,  but  she  allowed  her  daughter  to  kiss 
her,  and  recovered  herself  sufficiently  to  per- 
form the  ceremony  of  introduction  between  the 
bright-faced  girl  and  the  amused-looking  young 
man. 

"  This  is  my  daughter,  Mr.  Williams ;  and  Su- 
san, my  dear,  this  is  Mr.  Williams,  who  is  so  kind 
as  to  occupy  the  upper  rooms  of  the  house  and 
act  as  my  protector  during  your  absence.  You 
cannot  think  what  a  relief  it  is,  my  dear.  I 
should  never  be  able  to  sleep  a  wink,  if  it  were 
not  for  having  Mr.  Williams  in  the  house." 

Mr.  Williams,  with  becoming  modesty,  and 
with  an  exercise  of  economy  worthy  of  his  posi- 
tion as  head  clerk  at  Haberdasher's,  covered  in- 
troduction, compliment  and  exit  with  one  bow 
and  so  departed. 

"  I  am  exceedingly  mortified,  my  dear.  I  had 
hoped  to  introduce  you  under  more  auspicious 
circumstances.  Mr.  Williams  is  a  very  superior 
young  man,  and  your  hair  is  so  blown  about. 
But  I  have  invited  him  to  partake  of  our  Christ- 
mas dinner  with  us." 

"Oh,   mother  —  well,   are   you    glad   to    see 
me?" 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

11  Of  course,  my  dear,  I  am  glad  to  see  you. 
Did  you  bring  that  valise  from  the  depot,  my  dear 
child  ?" 

"  Yes,  mother." 

"Just  like  her  father,"  murmured  the  little 
lady,  with  a  sigh.  "  No  idea  whatever  of  gentility. 
Why,  Mr.  Converse  would  frequently  go  out  in  his 
shirt  sleeves  and  work  in  the  garden  all  day.  He 
usually  spent  his  Saturdays  so,  though  I  always 
told  him  it  was  unworthy  of  his  position  as  school- 
master." 

Susy,  not  thinking  it  necessary  to  remark  that 
by  bringing  the  bag  she  had  saved  fifty  cents 
which  she  had  put  into  a  bunch  of  celery  (Mrs. 
Converse's  "particular  wanity")  for  to-morrow's 
dinner,  went  cheerily  about  the  room,  getting  off 
her  things  and  stirring  up  the  fire. 

"  Had  tea,  mother  ?  " 

"  No,  my  dear ;  I  have  only  made  a  few  little 
preparations.  You  know  it  is  difficult  for  me  to 
bring  my  mind  to  these  things.  I  was  so  differ- 
ently brought  up  —  in  the  very  lap  of  luxury,  as 
you  may  say.  I  feel  it  so  keenly  ;"  and  the  poor 
little  woman  shook  out  a  large  handkerchief, 
with  a  very  deep  lace  edging,  and  applied  it  to 
her  eyes.  It  looked  as  if  it  might  possibly  be 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

one  she  had  taken  from  Luxury's  pocket  when 
she  sat  in  her  lap  a.  great  many  years  ago. 

"  My  little  waiting-maid,"  the  lady  continued, 
"  the  little  Ann  of  whom  I  wrote  you,  left  me 
last  night.  She  complained  that  it  was  cold  sit- 
ting in  the  kitchen  in  the  evening.  Of  course, 
in  our  reduced  circumstances  (and  Mrs.  Converse 
lowered  her  voice  to  a  whisper  lest  the  young 
gentleman  up-stairs  should,  by  any  possibility, 
have  "  reduced  circumstances"  suggested  to  his 
mind)  it  was  not  possible  for  me  to  keep  two 
fires  through  the  evening.  The  child's  mother 
actually  proposed  that  she  should  sit  in  this 
room  with  me  !  I  don't  know  what  we  shall  do 
now  for  a  girl." 

"  I  do,"  said  Susy,  under  her  breath.  "  Where 
do  you  keep  your  butter,  mother  ?" 

"  I  am  not  sure  where  I  put  it.  Look  in  the 
wardrobe,  my  dear.  You  know,  as  I  have  often 
told  you,  I  am  quite  unaccustomed  to  these 
things." 

"  How  about  the  class  in  wax-flowers  and  the 
ornamental  branches  ?"  asked  Susy,  possibly 
with  a  view  to  diverting  the  good  lady's  remin- 
iscences. 

"Ah,  well,  my  dear — there  is  so  little  taste  for 
12* 


274  J]/ISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

art  in  these  days.  I  have  handed  about  my 
papers  in  our  small  circle  of  acquaintance,  and 
two  young  ladies,  friends  of  Miss  Hurlburt's,  I 
believe,  came  in  one  morning.  One  took  a  les- 
son in  writing,  and  the  other  began  a  rosebud, 
but — they  were  called  out  of  town,  I  believe." 

"  Just  as  well,  little  mother — just  as  well.  You 
know  I  did  n't  want  you  to  do  anything  of  the 
kind.  You  have  enough  to  do  to  take  care  of 
yourself  and  keep  well.  I'm  strong  enough  for 
the  rest." 

"  I  have  tried  to  make  a  few  preparations  for 
to-morrow,  my  dear,"  said  the  little  lady,  quite 
touched  by  Susy's  tenderness.  "And  our  good 
friend,  Miss  Hurlburt,  has  assisted  me.  Miss 
Hurlburt  is  an  excellent  creature.  She  lacks 
refinement,  but  she  has  some  excellent  traits." 

"  The  most  magnificent  woman  I  ever  saw," 
said  Susy,  tersely. 

Before  the  tea-things  were  washed  and  put 
away,  the  object  of  these  diverse  expressions  of 
approbation  brought  a  pleasant  face  to  the  sit- 
ting-room door. 

"  I  thought  so,"  she  said  brightly,  following 
the  pleasant  face  with  a  tall,  vigorous  form  and  a 
hearty  voice,  and  kissing  Susy. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


2/5 


"  You  found  you  could  come  to-night." 

"  By  a  little  pushing  ;  yes,  and  I  wanted  to 
come.  Mother  likes  to  go  to  church  Christmas 
morning,  and  I  thought  I'd  like  to  go  with  her," 
and  she  glanced  toward  the  adjoining  room 
where  Mrs.  Converse,  with  about  the  grace  of  a 
wax-figure,  sat  motionless  in  the  rocking-chair. 
She  did  not  consider  it  genteel  to  rock.  Miss 
Hurlburt,  meanwhile  took  up  a  towel  and  wiped 
dishes  vigorously. 

"  Well,  Susy  ?"  she  said,  at  length,  inquiringly. 

"Well,  Miss  Hurlburt,  I've  done  it.  I  told 
Mr.  Clark  I  could  n't  teach  there  another  term. 
I  knew  I  ought  to." 

"  I've  been  talking  to  the  Board  ever  since  you 
were  here  last,"  said  Miss  Hurlburt,  a  little 
anxiously.  "  I've  been  to  Mr.  Smith  and  to  Mr. 
Thomson — all  round  the  Board,  in  fact,"  and  she 
laughed  ;  "  and  I've  cracked  you  up — you  ought 
to  have  heard  me.  They  say  they  have  no 
doubt  you're  a  good  teacher  and  all  that,  but 
their  list  of  applicants  is  full  already,  and  being 
from  another  State,  you  know " 

"  Oh,  I've  given  up  the  Board  long  ago,"  said 
Susy.  "  Thank  you  for  trying,  though.  But 
I'm  going  to  do  something  else.  I'm  going  to 


276  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

sew.  It  will  shock  mother,  I  know  ;  but  I  don't 
see  how  I  can  help  it.  She  needs  me,  and  I  can't 
be  with  her  any  other  way.  What  do  you  think  ?" 

"  You're  a  good  girl,  Susy  Converse,  that's 
what  I  think,  and  I'm  proud  of  you,"  said  this 
blessed  old  maid,  squeezing  the  girl's  hand  under 
the  table-cloth  till  it  ached. 

"As  for  the  work  itself,  I  like  it  well  enough," 
said  Susy,  greatly  brightened  up  by  the  squeeze, 
though  it  did  hurt.  "  I  like  it  quite  as  well,  and 
think  it's  quite  as  intellectual  as  drilling  a  regi- 
ment of  babies  in  '  so  the  farmer  sows  his  seed,' 
and  '  so  the  baker  bakes  his  bake  ;'  and  that's  all 
I've  got  to  get,  all  I  could  get  to  for  a  year  or 
two.  The  other  part — I  dread  it  a  little,  and  yet 

we  are  nobodies  already  in  X ;  my  doing 

this  can't  make  us  more  so.  The  only  thing  is, 
I  don't  know  where  to  begin.  I  don't  know  any- 
body that  wants  a  sewing  girl." 

"  Don't  be  worried  about  that.  Just  you  wait 
a  few  days.  I'll  see  what  I  can  do.  I  guess  you 
had  better  put  a  line  in  the  paper,  and  then  you 
keep  still.  The  Lord  will  provide.  You  see  if 
He  don't. " 

"  I  wish  He  had-  more  people  like  you  to  help 
Him,"  said  Susy,  heartily." 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  277 

A  few  days  after  this,  when  the  new  year  had 
fairly  set  in,  Miss  Hurlburt  sat  by  her  sunny  win- 
dow rocking,  knitting  a  red  and  white  baby's 
stocking,  and  singing  "  Devizes."  It  was  a  little, 
low-ceiled  room,  the  third  story  back  of  a  small 
house  on  Shady  street.  The  walls  were  papered 
in  a  gloomy  shade  of  ultramarine,  sprinkled  with 
mammoth  rosebuds  in  purplish  pink,  and  over 
the  head  of  the  little  single  bed,  hung  Miss 
Hurlburt 's  only  and  well-beloved  picture — a  col- 
ored lithograph  of  three  white  kittens  playing 
with  a  branch  of  lilac.  This  was  framed  gorge- 
ously in  gilt,  and  made  a  bright  spot  in  that  dark 
corner.  Miss  Hurlburt  looked  up  at  it  fondly  as 
she  rocked,  and  stopped  her  knitting  and  her 
singing  twenty  times  a  day,  when  she  spent  a 
day  at  home,  to  laugh  at  the  "  pretty  creatures" 
tumbling  over  each  other  in  their  innocent  but 
stupid  gambols. 

But  to-day  her  eye  sought  oftener  the  broad, 
honest  face  of  the  old  mahogany  clock  that  squint- 
ed at  her  in  a  friendly  way  from  behind  the  stove- 
pipe. "  This  was  another  favorite.  Nobody 
knows  how  much  company  a  good  clock  is,"  she 
used  to  say,  as  she  came  stumbling  up  her  crazy 
staircase  of  a  dark,  cold  night,  and  heard  its 


278 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


lusty  voice  ticking  faithfully  away.  The  clock 
was  pointing  now  towards  one,  and  Miss  Hurl- 
burt  thought  it  time  to  roll  up  her  knitting  and 
prepare  to  be  going.  "  It  begins  at  two  o'clock," 
she  said,  "  and  I'll  just  step  in  to  Mrs.  Stevens 
and  see  how  that  baby  is  on  the  way." 

Miss  Hurlburt's  mirror  of  about  a  foot  square, 
hung  over  her  wash-stand  at  the  right  hand  of 
the  window  that  was  not  sunny.  From  the 
drawer  of  this  same  wash-stand,  Miss  Hurlburt 
carefully  abstracted  a  large  collar,  heavily  em- 
broidered in  grape-vines,  and  edged  with  three 
rows  of  big,  round  holes.  This  she  exchanged, 
before  the  little  mirror,  for  the  linen  band  that 
had  finished  the  neck  of  her  plain  brown  dress. 
Miss  Hurlburt's  dress  was  dark  brown,  and 
made  in  the  most  open  defiance  of  the  dress  of 
the  period.  This  was  because  she  was  a  sensible 
woman,  above  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  the 
world.  But  where  is  the  woman  that  has  not  a 
weakness?  Miss  Hurlburt.  had  a  weakness  for 
embroidered  collars.  Her  heart  was  as  soft  be- 
fore the  rows  of  flapping  white  things  in  Jones' 
window,  marked  in  blue  letters  "25  c.,"  "40  c.," 
"awful  sacrifice,"  "going  at  $1.00,"  as  yours  was, 
my  dear,  this  morning,  before  that 'lovely  Roman 
sash  and  that  little  violet  plush  sacque  that  you 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  2/9 

saw  on  Silver  street,  and  had  the  obliging  clerk 

i 

send  up  "  for  mamma  to  look  at." 

Miss  Hurlburt's  pleasant  face  grew  pleasanter 
as  she  smoothed  down  the  big  collar,  and  labor- 
iously pinned  it  with  the  little  red  ivory  brooch, 
set  with  steel  diamonds,  which  Mrs.  Stevens  had 
given  her  on  Christmas  day.  Then  she  mounted 
a  trunk  in  her  closet  and  took  down  carefully, 
from  the  top  shelf,  a  band-box  of  large  dimen- 
sions enclosed  in  a  flowery  chintz  bag,  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made,  with  complicated  arrange- 
ments of  strings  at  top  and  bottom.  In  this 
sacred  edifice,  was  enshrined  the  brown  bonnet 
with  purple  flowers  inside,  which  had  been  Miss 
Hurlburt's  best  for  three  seasons.  Next  she  put 
on  the  large  woolen  shawl  with  pink  streaks  run- 
"  ning  through  the  brown  plaids  on  the  border, 
and  then  she  made  her  way  down  the  three  dim 
staircases,  out  into  the  cold  air.  She  had  been 
some  minutes  in  the  street  before  she  drew  out 
of  her  pocket  a  pair  of  cotton  gloves,  and  rapid- 
ly projected  her  fingers  into  them  as  she  walked 
along.  "  I'm  glad  I  put  my  knitting  work  in  my 
pocket,"  she  said,  to  herself.  "  Very  likely  there 
won't  be  enough  cut  out  at  first,  and  I  can  knit 
after  supper  and  between  times." 

Miss   Hurlburt   stopped-  at   Mrs.    Stevens'   as 


280  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

she  had  proposed.  Mr.  Stevens  was  journeyman 
tailor  at  the  shop  for  which  she  works.  Mr. 
Stevens'  house  was  a  narrow,  dingy,  insignificant 
dwelling,  of  that  class  less  known  by  well-to-do 
people  than  the  homes  of  the  very  poor.  A  foot- 
path across  the  snow  of  the  narrow  side  yard  led 
to  the  back  door.  The  front  door  looked  as  if 
it  had  never  been  opened.  Miss  Hurlburt  took 
the  foot-path  and  was  soon  in  the  "  keeping-room" 
with  the  sick  and  the  young  mother.  The  baby 
was  very  white  and  pinched  looking  ;  the  mother 
was  very  pale  and  anxious. 

"  Let  me  take  him,"  said  Miss  Hurlburt,  as  the 
poor  wee  thing  set  up  a  feeble  wail.  "  He's  in  pain. 
Poor  little  thing  !  Come  here  to  your  old  aunty. 
Let  me  rub  his  little  stomik"  and  she  rubbed, 
and  trotted,  and  rocked,  and  crowed  over  the 
little  morsel  of  human  misery,  as  if  she  had 
never  done  anything  but  tend  babies  in  her  life. 
"There.  He's  quiet  now.  I  guess  he'll  go  to 
sleep.  I'll  come  in  again  on  my  way  home  from 
society." 

"  Society"  was  held  to-day  at  Mrs.  Smith's  on 
the  avenue,  next  door  to  Miss  Roberts',  and  Miss 
Hurlburt  soon  arrived  at  the  elegant  mansion. 
Only  a  few  ladies  had  gathered  as  yet  in  the 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  281 

spacious  parlors.  Miss  Hurlburt  very  soon  took 
her  place  in  a  small  back  room,  and  fell  to  work 
on  a  bed-quilt.  When  she  came  back,  a  little 
before  tea,  the  quilt  being  off  and  the  knitting- 
work  fairly  under  weigh,  the  rooms  were  full  and 
she  stood  for  a  moment  looking  about  for  a  seat 
and  dispensing  bows  and  smiles  on  all  sides. 
Over  in  the  corner  by  a  window,  sat  Helen  Rob- 
erts, making  button-holes.  Mrs.  Smith  had  so 
urged  her  to  come.  "  The  work  was  very  press- 
ing. They  wanted  to  get  off  a  box  this  week. 
Only  a  sewing  -  society,  and  at  a  neighbor's." 
The  minister,  also,  who  had  called  last  night, 
strongly  advised  and  urged  her  coming,  and,  on 
the  present  occasion,  followed  up  his  advice,  by 
sharing  her  divan  for  at  least  half  an  hour,  and 
manifesting  great  interest  in  the  button  -  holes. 
She  was  looking  a  little  lonely  just  at  this  mo- 
ment, and  very  pretty  in  her  heavy  black  silk 
and  the  soft,  white  ruffles  about  her  neck  and 
wrists.  The  fact  was,  that  Miss  Roberts  was 
apt  to  be — not  at  all  avoided — but  somewhat  left 
to  herself  in  a  company  like  this,  composed  with 
a  single  exception,  of  women.  The  old  reserve 
had  not  quite  worn  off,  and  people  saw  it,  and 
called  it  by  different  names  according  to  the 


282  MISS  ROJBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

glasses  they  saw  it  through.  Some  thought  her 
haughty.  Some  thought  her  only  quiet.  Some 
felt  a  tender  kind  of  awe  of  her,  because  of  her 
loneliness  and  her  affliction.  Some  were  afraid 
of  her  because  she  was  rich. 

Miss  Hurlburt  had  none  of  these  feelings.  She 
would  not  have  understood  them,  if  they  had 
come  to  her.  It  was  the  nature  of  her  mind 
(second  nature,  induced  by  long  habit)  to  turn, 
without  a  single  consideration  of  any  other  kind, 
just  where  it  seemed  at  the  moment  that  she 
might  be  of  a  little  use.  "  Silks  and  satins  need 
a  little  missionarying  as  well  as  rags,"  she  often 
said,  and  acted  on  the  principle.  She  walked 
straight  over  to  Helen,  almost  as  soon  as  she  saw 
her.  "You  look  a  little  bit  lonely — not  very, 
though,"  as  Helen  looked  up  and  smiled. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  of  company,"  said  Helen, 
and  she  moved  to  make  a  place  on  the  little 
divan.  She  knew  Miss  Hurlburt,  of  course. 
Everybody  did.  The  two  women — the  one  fair 
and  young,  dressed  in  rich  silk,  and  diamonds 
sparkling  on  her  hand  ;  the  other,  wrinkled  and 
old,  in  a  brown  merino  dress,  and  one  little 
washed  gold  ring  on  her  finger :  these  two  wo- 
men somehow  came  nearer  together  in  a  few 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  283 

minutes  than  any  other  two  women  in  the  whole 
large  company  probably  were.  It  was  the  love 
and  interest  on  the  one  side,  and  the  candor  and 
teachableness  on  the  other.  They  had  their  tea 
together,  in  the  most  sociable  manner,  on  a  little 
marble  chess-stand,  and,  by  a  coincidence  a  little 
surprising  to  both,  they  started  up  to  go  at  the 
same  moment,  very  shortly  after  tea.  When 
they  reached  the  porch,  it  was  found  to  be  rain- 
ing. Peter,  with  the  carriage,  was  at  hand.  It 
was  the  regular  evening  for  Uncle  Roger,  and  as 
Lily  had  a7  western  friend  visiting  her,  Helen  had 
promised  particularly  to  come,  without  fail,  to- 
night. 

"  Miss  Hurlburt,  you  had  better  ride.  I  am 
going  your  way." 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Roberts  ;  but  I  am  not  go- 
ing directly  home.  I  have  a  call  to  make  in  D 
street." 

"  Then  let  me  take  you  there.  It  is  raining  too 
hard  for  you  to  walk,"  and  Miss  Hurlburt,  whose 
cordial  and  ready  acceptance  of  small  favors  from 
the  rich  was  one  of  her  strong  points,  allowed 
herself  to  be  shut  in  among  the  soft  satin  cush- 
ions. 

"  Miss  Hurlburt,  do  you  happen  to  know  of  a 


284  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

good  seamstress  ?"  said  Helen,  conversation  lag- 
ging as  they  rolled  down  the  avenue. 

"There, —  thank  the  Lord!  Of  course,  I  do. 
Didn't  I  say  he  would  provide  ?"  Then,  appar- 
ently reining  herself  up  suddenly  and  dropping 
into  a  business  tone,  "  Yes,  I  know  of  one." 

"A  good  one,  of  course  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  can  recommend  her.  She  has  worked 
for  me." 

"  Where  is  she  to  be  found  ?" 

"At  No.  59  Shady  street." 

And  though  Helen's  curiosity  was,  all  agog, 
that  was  all  she  coutd  by  any  means  get  out  of 
her  old  friend,  without  resorting  to  direct  ques- 
tions. But  that  the  subject  had  not  dropped  out 
of  Miss  Hurlburt's  mind,  a  very  brief  glance  at 
that  lively  oracle  would  have  shown. 

"  Now,  I  declare,  if  that  is  n't  just  the  best 
thing  for  both  of  those  girls,  I  never  did  see  ! 
How  He  does  bring  things  out !  I  declare  it's 
worth  living  for  just  to  see  how  He  manages 
these  little  things." 

And  the  plain  woman's  plain  old  face  was  all 
aglow  in  the  dark  with  her  thoughts. 

The  carriage  soon  drew  up  before  the  journey- 
man tailor's  little  house.  "  Won't  you  come  in  ? 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  285 

* 

There's  a  little  sick  baby  here.  They  would  be 
glad  to  see  you." 

"  No,  I  think  not,  Miss  Hurlburt,  I  do  not  know 
them," 

"  Just  as  you  please,"  said  Miss  Hurlburt,  pleas- 
antly. 

It  was  not  the  tone  ;  it  was  the  words.  If  Miss 
Hurlburt  had  said  any  thing  else,  Miss  Roberts 
would  not  have  stirred.  But  those  words— -just 
as  you  please — had  a  hateful  sound  to  her  ears. 
She  had  lived  by  them  too  long.  Without  a 
word  more,  she  followed  the  tall  woman  across 
the  foot-path  to  the  back  door. 

"  Oh,"  said  Miss  Hurlburt,  "  I  thought  you 
were  not  coming!"  But  she  held  the  door  open 
with  a  smile,  and  Helen  passed  into  the  house. 

The  little  keeping-room  was  full  of  busy,  kind, 
officious  women,  talking  in  loud  whispers  and 
passing  in  and  out  of  a  tiny  bed-room.  The  baby 
was  dying.  In  a  few  minutes  Miss  Hurlburt 
came  out  of  the  bed-room  with  her  bonnet-strings 
untied,  and  told  Helen  not  to  wait  for  her.  She 
was  going  to  stay  all  night.  But  she  brought  a 
lamp  to  the  back  door  and  held  it  over  her  head 
to  light  the  path,  and  called  the  little  journeyman 
tailor  to  help  Miss  Roberts  to  her  carriage. 


286  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said,  as  Helen  put  out  her 
hand  for  good-night,  "  would  you  like  to  bring 
around  a  few  white  flowers  in  the  morning.  I 
shall  be  here." 

"  I  will,  certainly,"  said  Helen,  and  went  back 
to  her  carriage. 

The  call,  of  course,  had  done  nobody  any  good, 
except  as  a  glimpse  into  any  human  life  may  do 
good  to  a  thoughtful  mind. 

The  next  morning  Miss  Roberts  had  been 
practicing  vigorously  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  be- 
fore the  thought  of  the  white  flowers  came  to  her 
mind.  After  she  thought  of  them,  she  finished 
her  long  series  of  studies,  took  up  another  sheet 
and  played  a  page  and  threw  it  away,  took  up 
another,  played  half  a  page,  and  then  stopped 
suddenly  in  the  midst  of  a  measure.  "  No,  it 
won't  do  after  dinner — the  next  time  I  see  Den- 
nis, and  Bridget  can't  tell  him  just  as  well  what 
I  want,  and  it  is  n't  just  as  well  to  let  Mitty  take 
them,"  she  said,  with  a  gleam  like  indignation  in 
her  eye.  She  left  the  piano,  took  a  white  sacque 
and  a  little  fleecy  white  head-covering  from  the 
closet  in  the  hall,  and  went  down  the  garden  to 
the  green-house.  It  was  a  lovely,  mild  January 
morning,  after  the  rain,  the  snow  almost  entirely 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  28/ 

melted  away.  The  young  mistress,  it  must  be 
confessed,  stood  in  some  awe  of  her  gardener; 
but  she  feigned  great  boldness,  and  snapped  her 
scissors  in  a  decided  way.  "  Dennis,  I've  come 
for  some  more  of  those  rosebuds,  the  handsomest 
you  have,  and  some  of  those  white  carnations, 
and  lots  of  green  smilax  and  geranium  leaves, 
and  something  light  to  fill  up  with."  Then  she 
gathered  her  robes  daintily  about  her  and  sat 
down  on  the  edge  of  a  shelf,  winking  vigorously, 
when  Dennis,  by  a  dexterous  movement,  made 
the  leaves  conceal  some  special  favorite,  and 
looking  the  other  way  as  the  shears  passed  by 
something  she  had  set  her  heart  on. 

This  matter  being  settled,  she  turned  her  atten- 
tion to  Peter.  But  if  Dennis  was  absolute  in  the 
green-house,  what  was  Peter  in  the  carriage- 
house  ?  That  man  had  a  special  genius  for  wash- 
ing the  carriage,  or  combing  the  horses,  or  dis- 
covering that  a  shoe  was  loose,  just  when  his 
services  were  most  needed  in  another  direction. 
The  carriage  stood  now  in  floods  of  water,  and 
Peter,  with  determination  in  every  line  of  his 
ebony  visage,  leaned  against  the  barn-door,  and 
ruthlessly  spurted  on  more.  "  Never  'sposed 
you'd  want  it  dis  yer  mornin',  miss"  (it  was  by 


288  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

far  the  most  delightful  day  they  had  had  that 
winter),  "  and  de  snow's  off  so  bad  we  can't  use 
the  sleigh,  no  how.  'Pears  like  you'll  have  to 
wait  till  afternoon,  miss." 

Miss  Roberts  went  in  with  her  flowers,  and 
looked  out  of  the  library  window.  As  she  stood 
there,  one  hand  and  arm  clasping  the  back  of  a 
large  crimson  chair  to  help  the  support  of  the 
slender  form,  the  other  hand  slightly  holding  the 
basket  of  white  flowers,  the  white  sacque  loosely 
drawn  about  her,  the  fleecy  head-dress  dropping 
from  her  brown  hair,  a  glow  on  her  cheek,  a 
problem  on  her  forehead,  she  made  a  very  pretty 
picture.  Harry  Moore  would  have  been  charmed. 
It  was  a  pity  there  was  nobody  to  see.  Girls  are 
so  often  most  sweet  and  charming  when  there  is 
nobody  to  see.  "  It  isn't  far,  and  the  pavements 
are  so  nicely  cleaned — not  slippery  at  all — and 
the  doctor  says  I  ought  to  walk  a  little  every 
day.  It  is  only  this  wretched,  horrid — what  is 
the  feeling,  I  wonder? — down  in  my  heart — that 
I  am  always  thinking  I  have  got  over,  and  that 
comes  back  when  I  least  expect  it.  I  think  Lily 
stirred  it  up  the  other  day  by  those  little  words 
about  my  feeling  differently,  if  I  could  '  dance 
and  carry  on.'  "  She  sat  down  thereupon.  It  tired 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  289 

her  to  stand  long.  She  sat  down,  and  the  basket 
of  flowers  lay  carelessly  on  her  lap,  and  the  glow 
faded  on  her  cheek,  and  the  problem  deepened 
on  her  forehead. 

A  little  before  one  o'clock,  when  Miss  Hurl- 
burt  had  cleared  away  the  simple  dinner  with 
that  stillness  and  decorum  which  one  uses  in  a 
house  where  Death  is  a  guest,  she  heard  a  knock 
at  the  back  door,  and,  answering  it,  found  Helen 
Roberts. 

"  Oh/  is  it  you  ?  And  you  walked  ?  You  must 
be  tired." 

The  young  lady  confessed  to  being  a  little 
tired,  but  she  was  looking  very  bright.  To  hide 
a  kind  of  pleased  confusion  at  Miss  Hnrlburt's 
warm  welcome,  which,  somehow  to  her,  standing 
behind  the  scenes,  seemed  to  mean  more  than 
the  mere  words  said,  she  bent  her 'head  and  de- 
voted herself  to  unpinning  the  paper  over  her 
flowers.  Miss  Hurlburt  admired,  as  much  as 
one  could  have  wished,  yet  she  evidently  had 
something  on  her  mind. 

"  Now,  if  you  are  not  in  a  hurry,"  she  said, 
presently,  "  while  you  are  resting;  if  you  could 
just  make    them    up  into  a  pretty  wreath.      It 
would  please  the  mother  so." 
13 


290  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  I  thought  she  would  so  much  rather  arrange 
them  herself.  That  is  just  why  I  brought  them 
so/'  said  Helen,  astonished. 

Miss  Hurlburt  smiled. 

"  So  you  would,  my  dear;  so  you  would  rather 
arrange  them  yourself;  but  you've  no  idea  how 
much  some  people — such  people  as  these — think 
of  having  things  done  as  they  should  be,  in  the 
right  style.  It  is  a  great  thing  to  have  a  young 
lady  like  you  come  in  and  make  a  wreath.  Now, 
they  know,  I'm  willing  enough  ;  but  when  it 
comes  to  matters  of  taste,  why,  I'm  nobody. 
But  you  know  just  how  it  should  be,  and  they 
would  be  sure  that  it  was  right,  if  you  did  it." 

Helen  was  going  to  be  disgusted.  Style  at 
funerals !  This  was  the  effect,  natural  enough, 
too,  of  the  ghastly  vanity  that  had  so  often 
shocked  her  among  the  rich — the  lower  classes 
gaping  after  the  shows  and  follies  of  the  other. 

She  was  going  to  be  disgusted,  I  say,  and  reason 

with  herself  on  this  wise,  "but  something  in  Miss 

• 
Hurlburt's  tone,   as    she    merely   asked   if   she 

should  bring  twine  and  wire  and  begin  at  once, 

changed  the  current  of  the  young  girl's  thoughts. 

"  Find  out  men's  wants   and    will,    and    meet 

them   there,"   she   said.      "What   a   fool  I  am' 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


291 


There's  little  enough  of  charity  in  doing  a  kind 
ness  in  one's  own  way.  The  very  essence  of  the 
thing,  the  love  is  in  the  special  suiting  of  the 
gift  —  the  studying  of  the  want  —  as  God  does 
when  He  gives  gifts.  For  He  knoweth  our 
frame.  He  remembereth  !" 

Miss  Hurlburt  took  her  into  the  dim,  little 
parlor  where  the  dead  baby  lay,  still  and  white, 
and  the  two  women  sprinkled  flowers  over  his 
pillow — the  softest  and  peacefulest  his  little  life 
had  ever  known,  and  twined  the  garland  for  his 
tiny  coffin,  and  spoke  little  and  in  quiet  voices. 
It  was  very  strange  to  Helen.  How  fast  things 
were  coming  to  her  !  How  old  she  was  grow- 
ing ! 


Who  would  have  thought  a  joy 

So  coy, 
To  be  offended  so 

And  go 

So  suddenly  away  ? 
Hereafter  I  had  need, 

Take  heed. 

Joys,  among  other  things,  have  wings, 
Converting,  in  a  moment,  day  to  night: 


CHAPTER    X. 

MRS.  CONVERSE  was  indulging-  in  an 
early  dinner.  The  morning  had  been  a 
trifle  dull,  and,  as  she  remarked,  on  recounting 
the  circumstances  to  her  lodger  in  the  evening, 
she  had  not  been  looking  for  callers.  Moreover, 
she  had  been  intent  on  the  construction  of  a 
lemon-colored  wax  rose,  which,  when  full  blown, 
was  to  adorn  Miss  Hurlburt's  apartment.  For 
these  reasons,  Mrs.  Converse  had  allowed  herself 
to  remain  in  a  state  of  unprecedented  deshabille  ; 
her  front  hair  in  curling -papers,  and  a  loose, 
crimson  morning  wrapper  enveloping  her  usually 
trim  and  tidy  figure. 

A  little  exhausted  by  her  labor,  and  weary  of 
her  lonely  condition  (for  Susy  was  at  the  journey- 
man tailor's  making  her  first  essay  at  the  dress- 
making life),  the  worthy  little  lady  had,  by  no 
means,  disdained  the  very  imgenteel  repast  of 
pork  and  cabbage  which  Miss  Hurlburt  had  sent 

(2.95) 


2o6  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

in  about  twelve  o'clock,  and  was  partaking  of 
it,  at  this  moment,  by  her  parlor  table,  with  evi- 
dent relish. 

Under  these  circumstances,  a  sudden  ring  of 
the  door-bell  was  a  little  disconcerting,  and,  when 
Mrs.  Converse,  looking  out  of  the  window,  be- 
held an  aristocratic  establishment  standing  in  all 
the  glory  of  liveried  coachman  and  shining 
horses  before  her  humble  door,  she  was  thrown 
into  a  flutter  positively  alarming.  Visions  of 
rich  old  gentlemen,  struck  by  Susy's  beauty, 
or  —  who  knows?  Her  head-dresses  were  uni- 
versally acknowledged  to  be  very  becoming, 
and  her  complexion  (with  the  help  of  a  little  ala- 
baster) was  really  remarkably  fine — by  her  own, 
perhaps,  and  come  to  cast  their  fortunes  at  her 
feet ;  reminiscences  of  loving  school-mates,  whose 
affection  had,  perhaps,  survived  the  tempests  of 
fortune,  and  who  had  now  sought  her  out  in  her 
retirement  and  widowhood ;  these  and  even 
wilder  fancies  rushed  across  her  fevered  brain, 
as  she  hastily  removed  the  outward  and  visible 
signs  of  her  interrupted  feast  from  the  parlor 
table. 

It  was  none  other  than  Helen  Roberts  at  the 
door,  who,  having  rung  the  bell  twice,  with  no 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

effect  beyond  a  general  sound  of  shutting  of 
doors  and  scuffing  across  passages,  was  about  to 
turn  away ;  but,  at  the  third  attempt,  the  amused- 
looking  young  lodger,  home  for  his  morning,  felt 
called  upon  to  make  some  effort  to  find  the 
family,  and,  not  succeeding  (for  Mrs.  Converse 
had  by  this  time  intrenched  herself  in  her  bed- 
room), opened  the  door  with  his  finest  bow. 

Helen  entered  the  little  room  where  the 
hastily-spread  table-cover  was  dropping  to  the 
floor,  and  the  rocking-chair  was  in  violent  mo- 
tion from  the  many  shocks  administered  during 
Mrs.  Converse's  flight. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  one  of  them  must  be  in," 
said  the  amused -looking  young  man.  "I  will 
look  again." 

The  visitor,  thus  oddly  admitted,  had  ample 
time  to  study  the  small  apartment,  and  did  it  a 
little  curiously.  She  noted,  with  interest,  the 
monochromatic  castles  and  moons  and  gondolas 
that  garnished  the  walls,  and  looked  with  amaze- 
ment on  the  mammoth  wax  dahlias  and  lilies  on 
the  mantel-piece.  Only  one  corner  of  the  room 
looked  natural  and  simple.  This  was  the  recess 
back  of  the  fire-place,  where  there  was  a  low 
cane  rocking-chair,  and  a  little  stand  with  a  red 
13* 


298  J//SS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

cover,  on  which  were  a  dainty  work-basket  lined 
with  blue  silk,  a  newspaper,  a  fresh  magazine, 
and  a  volume  of  miscellaneous  essays. 

In  process  of  time  Mrs.  Converse  appeared,  a 
trifle  more  tightly  laced  than  usual,  her  brocade 
skirts  a  trifle  more  sweeping,  her  black  hair  on 
her  white  cheek  a  trifle  smoother,  and  the  two 
curls  stiff  from  the  curling  stick.  A  bright  color 
induced  by  her  recent  unparalleled  exercise  broke 
through  the  rouge  and  alabaster. 

She  exceedingly  regretted  having  detained 
her  young  friend  so  long.  She  was  not  in  a 
vigorous  state  of  health,  and  was  obliged  to  pass 
the  greater  part  of  her  time  reclining  on  her 
couch. 

Mrs.  Converse,  it  will  be  observed,  was  one  of 
those  persons  who  always  regret  things,  but 
never  feel  sorry,  who  detain  their  friends  but  do 
not  keep  them  waiting,  who  recline  but  never  lie 
down.  Under-educated  people  are  conspicuous- 
ly fond  of  talking  Latin.  At  the  time  the  bell 
rang,  Mrs.  Converse  continued,  the  maid  had 
stepped  out,  but  a  young  gentleman  visitor  had 
.been  so  kind,  etc.,  etc.  She  trusted  the  delay 
had  not  incommoded  Miss  Roberts.  Helen  made 
the  suitable  disclaimers  and  stated  her  errand 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  2gg 

in  few  words.  It  was  evidently  a  shock  to 
the  waxy  little  lady.  The  color  struck  through 
the  rouge  more  visibly.  But  she  mastered  her- 
self well.  "  Yes,  Susy  had  recently  returned 
from  school,  really  quite  debilitated  by  severe 
intellectual  exertions.  She  was  very  fond  of 
needle-work.  She  believed  she  had  consented — 
for  the  accommodation  of  a  few  friends — really — 
she  did  not  know  how  her  daughter  would  feel 
about  it — not  at  all  a  common  seamstress — but 
to  accommodate — as  a  friend — possibly." 

"  I  hope  she  can  come,"  said  Helen,  simply. 
"  If  she  can,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  ask  her  to 
call  and  see  me  in  a  few  days,"  and  she  was  about 
to  leave. 

"  Perhaps  you  have  noticed,"  said  Mrs.  Con- 
verse, rising,  and  assuming  the  statuesque  atti- 
tude, "  perhaps  you  have  noticed,  Miss  Roberts, 
the  works  of  art  which  hang  about  the  room." 

Helen  could  not  deny  that  she  had  noticed 
them. 

"  You  will  pardon  my  calling  your  attention 
to  them,  since  they  are  my  own  productions,  but 
I  have  been  studying  your  face — I  am  very  good 
at  studying  faces — and  I  fancied  that  you  might 
be  interested  in  them.  /  am  exceedingly  fond 


300  MISS  ROBERTS    FORTUNE. 

of  art  myself,  and  I  have  sometimes  consented, 
at  the  request  of  some  of  my  young  friends,  to 
give  a  few  instructions  in  some  of  those  orna- 
mental branches,  which  are  so  much  neglected 
by  the  young  ladies  of  the  present  day — wax 
flowers,  painting  on  velvet,  embroider}7,  and  also 
in  penmanship,  which  I  consider  a  very  import- 
ant branch.  This  gives  me  mental  occupation, 
and  my  nature  craves  that  and  society.  I  dearly 
like  to  have  the  young  about  me.  For  though  I 
am  growing  old  and  faded,  (here  the  little  lady 
coughed  delicately  and  waited  for  the  compli- 
ment which  Helen  was  not  quick-witted  enough 
to  offer),  my  feelings  are  still  young  and  fresh. 
Here,  my  dear,  is  a  little  statement,  in  my  own 
hand-writing,  which  I  drew  up  for  a  former  class 
of  pupils." 

Mrs.  Converse  omitted  to  mention  that  this 
was  the  same  class  whose  history  we  have  heard 
her  recount  to  her  daughter  on  a  former  occa- 
sion. 

Helen  took  the  sheet  and  read  as  follows,  in 
the  most  elaborate  of  copper-plate  hands: 

"  Mrs.  A.  C.  Converse, 

(Widow  of  the  late  lamented  A.  C.  Converse,  Esq.,  for  many 
years  the  respected  Principal  of  the  Windham  County  Institute) 


MISS  ROBERTS   FORTUNE. 


301 


Has  Consented 

To  impart  Instruction 

To  a  limited  number  of  Young  Ladies 

in  the  following  branches  : 

Wax  Flowers  I 

(Mrs.  C.  thinks  it  proper  to  state  in  this  connection,  that  a  Basket 

of  Flowers  from  her  hand,  took  the  First  Premium  at  the  County 

Fair  of  Windham  County,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1847,  and 

received  the  most  flattering  notices  from  the  local  press.) 

Painting  on  Velvet ! 

Painting  on  Satin  ! 

(Mrs.  C.  may  mention,  under  this  head,  that  a  large-sized  paint- 
ing on  Blue  Satin,  representing  the  Evils  of  Intemperance,  was 
purchased  of  her  by  the  Cold  Water  Union  of  the  town  of  Wind- 
ham,  and  now  hangs  in  their  new  and  commodious  Hall.} 

Monochromatic  Painting  ! 
(Easily  learned  in  Six  Lessons.) 

Pastel  Painting  ! 
Shell-  Work,  in  all  varieties  ! 

Embroidery  ! 

Ornamental  Penmanship  ! 

The  advancement  of  her  pupils  being  more  of  an  object  than 
pecuniary  reward,  Mrs.  C.  has  fixed  the  price  of  her  instructions 
at  the  low  sum  of  $20.00  per  course,  of  twelve  lessons." 

Helen  despised  wax-flow'ers,  and  wrote  a  very 
good  hand  indeed,  but  something  in  the  faded 
gentility  of  this  little  woman  went  to  her  heart. 
Her  smile  was  a  mixture  of  amusement  and 
kindness.  "  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Converse,  I  will 
take  the  paper  if  you  please,  and  perhaps  I  will 
see." 

She  continued  to  think  of  the  subject  as  she 
drove  away.  "  I  don't  know  that  I  have  any 


302 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


special  objections  to  learning  to  paint  on  satin, 
and  I  really  suppose  the  twenty  dollars  would 
be  a  good  deal  to  her.  But  if  I  don't,  perhaps, 
as  Mrs.  Converse  suggested,  '  some  of  my  young 
friends'  may."  There  were  the  Parvenu  girls, 
three  of  them.  She  was  just  passing  their  house. 
She  was  not  intimately  acquainted  with  these 
young  ladies,  but  she  had  sat  behind  their  bon- 
nets in  church  for  many  years,  and  felt  tolerably 
certain  that  they  would  be  interested  in  wax- 
flowers  and  the  ornamental  branches.  "  Peter, 
I  wish  you  would  stop  here,"  she  called  out 
suddenly. 

The  young  ladies  were  not  in,  but  Mrs.  P — 

was.     Miss  Roberts  would  see  Mrs.  P- .     She 

waited  for  that  lady  in  a  parlor  that  smelled  like 
a  furniture  shop,  and  at  length,  covered  with 
smiles  and  graciousness,  the  lady  came  down. 
Greatly  tickled  within  herself  by  the  brilliancy 
of  her  sudden  idea,  and  the  fun  that  might  come 
out  of  it,  Helen  unfolded  her  plan  and  exhibited 
Mrs.  Converse's  "  statement." 

"  Why,   how  kind  you  was  !"  exclaimed   Mrs. 

P ,  increasing  in  smiles  and  graciousness,  if 

that  were  possible.  "  The  girls  will  be  delighted, 
I  know.  They  was  a  sayin'  only  a  few  days  ago, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


303 


they  wished  they  knew  how  to  make  wax  dahlias 
like  them  they  had  at  the  Sanitary.  Do  you  re- 
member ?" 

Helen  did  not  remember. 

"  You  are  goin'  to  take  yourself,  I  believe  you 
said  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Helen,  deciding  on  the  instant. 

"  When   do   you   begin  ?"   asked    Mrs.   P , 

studying  the  trimming  on  Helen's  overskirt,  and 
settling  in  her  mind  that  Laviny's  cashmere,  now 
being  made  over,  should  be  treated  in  the  same 
manner. 

"  Any  time — as  soon  as  possible,  I  should  think. 
Perhaps  one  of  the  girls  will  come  around  and 
tell  me  when  they  are  ready,  and  then  we  will 
arrange  with  Mrs.  Converse.  And  I  think  we 
had  better  pay  in  advance,"  added  the  young 
lady,  grown  very  business-like. 
•  "  Yes,  certainly,  (that's  box-plaited  and  goes 
'round  three  times,  twice  layin'  down,  and  once 
standin'  up,  I  hope  I  shall  remember),  good-bye, 
I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you,  won't  you  stay  to 
dinner?  (It's  looped  up  with  a  strap,  that's  a 
real  pretty  way,  and  new,  too),  well,  good-bye,  if 
you  can't  stay,"  and  Miss  Roberts  went  her  way, 
having  made  a  most  unexpected  morning-call. 


304 


MISS  ROBERTS    FORTUNE. 


The  history  of  the  class  in  the  ornamental 
branches  is  brief,  and  may  as  well  be  given  here. 

The  Misses  Parvenu  began  a  dahlia  a-piece — 
red,  white  and  blue — this  happy  idea  being  Mrs. 
Converse's  own.  Helen  painted  a  daisy  on  a 
piece  of  lavender  ribbon,  and  two  years  after- 
wards added  another  thereunto,  and  made  a  neck- 
tie for  Miss  Prescott.  But  before  half  the  course 
of  lessons  was  completed,  it  became  clear  that 
Mrs.  Converse's  talents  lay  not  so  much  in  the 
line  of  imparting  instruction,  as  in  entertaining 
her  young  friends  by  the  exhibition  of  her  own 
elegant  accomplishments,  and  chiefly  of  her  con- 
versational powers.  It  was  difficult,  moreover, 
she  confessed,  for  her  to  confine  her  mind  to  the 
details  of  a  dahlia's  petals.  It  was  altogether 
distasteful  to  her  sensitive  organism,  to  attend  to 
the  preparation  of  the  materials — Susy  always 
did  that  for  her  work.  In  addition  to  these 
things,  the  mental  excitement  induced  by  this 
constant  exercise  of  her  artistic  talents  was  too 
much  for  her  delicate  physical  nature. 

"  Why,  dear,  I  fear  I  am  not  adapted  to  this 
drudgery,"  she  privately  confided  to  Helen. 
"  The  fact  is,  I  was  brought  up  in  the  lap  of 
luxury,"  and  Luxury's  handkerchief  here  came 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  305 

out  again.  "  It  is  almost  impossible  for  me  to 
learn  to  exert  myself.  I  have  greatly  enjoyed 
your  society  and  that  of  your  young  friends.  I 
thank  you  for  it." 

So  after  a  painful  and  lingering  existence,  (for 
Miss  Laviny,  of  the  blue  dahlia,  insisted  on  com- 
ing once  a  week  till  all  but  one  row  of  her  pe- 
tals was  done),  this  school  of  the  fine  arts  died  a 
natural  death. 

Susy,  meanwhile,  had  begun  to  work  at  Miss 
Roberts'.  She  had  made  her  first  call  at  the  fine 
house  with  many  fears  and  shrinkings.  She 
knew  enough  about  rich  people  to  dread  them. 
She  couldn't  get  used  to  thinking  of  herself  as 
that  "  very  respectable  young  person"  of  whom 
she  had  heard  grand  people  speak.  She  had  no 
false  ideas  of  her  position ;  she  wished  and  in- 
tended to  be  a  sewing-girl  and  nothing  more ; 
nevertheless,  flesh  and  blood  shrank  a  little. 

She  wished  that  all  her  day's  works  might  be 
in  houses  as  little  as  the  journeyman  tailor's. 
However,  on  the  occasion  of  this  first  call,  no- 
body more  terrible  than  Mitty  made  her  appear- 
ance, who,  in  Miss  Roberts's  absence,  was  autho- 
rized to  engage  Miss  Converse  for  a  week's 
work,  to  begin  next  Monday. 


3o6  .1/755  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Susy  remembers  with  distinctness  everything 
that  happened  that  first  Monday  at  Miss  Rob- 
erts's.  She  came  early,  in  the  winter  morning, 
and  was  admitted  at  first  into  the  library,  where 
the  maid  was  brushing  up  the  hearth,  and  a 
bright  fire  was  blazing.  Then  she  was  called 
up  -  stairs  to  a  charming  little  blue  room,  which 
she  afterwards  learned  opened  from  Miss  Rob- 
erts's  bed-room. 

The  morning  sun,  as  soon  as  he  was  up,  peep- 
ed in  here  with  a  cheery  look,  and  brightened 
her  up  immensely. 

Here,  too,  Mitty  soon  looked  in,  and  set  her  to 
work  on  a  gray  poplin  which  Miss  Roberts  was 
to  have  made  over. 

On  the  lounge  lay  half  a  dozen  other  dresses, 
which  were  to  have  something  done  to  them. 
Susy  studied  them  a  little,  and  tried  to  draw 
from  them  some  idea  of  their  wearer.  "  Light 
.complexion,  I  guess."  They  were  all  soft  colors — 
grays,-  lilacs,  lavenders,  and  one  or  two  white 
morning  wrappers — "  good  taste" — they  were  so 
daintily  made  ;  not  fussy  in  the  least ;  "  and  neat, 
I  know,  she  is." 

It  was  not  till  the  middle  of  the  morning  that 
Miss  Roberts  came  in.  She  left  the  door  open, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  307 

and  one  could  look  through  into  the  larger  room 
upon  a  round  table  where  she  had  evidently  just 
been  writing,  and  a  portrait  of  a  beautiful  lady 
hanging  over  it.  Miss  Roberts  herself  sat  down 
on  the  lounge,  and  hung  her  arm  over  one  of  the 
lavender  dresses. 

"  Good  morning,"  she  said.  "  I  am  glad  you 
could  come.  You  see  these  dresses  are  needing 
you." 

Susy  Converse  was  a  quick,  little  thing ;  impul- 
sive is  the  usual  word  for  that  sort  of  girl.  She 
had  a  mind  of  her  own,  and  it  moved  rapidly. 
She  gave  one  broad  glance  at  Helen,  at  her 
graceful  neck  and  shoulders  ;  at  her  delicate 
mouth,  with  its  smile  which  meant  just  enough, 
and  lingered  just  long  enough  at  her  clear,  deep 
eyes  ;  at  her  broad,  pure  forehead ;  she  noted 
the  pure,  genuine  tone  of  her  voice  as  she  spoke 
these  simplest  and  lightest  of  pleasant  words,  and 
she  said  in  her  heart,  "  T  love  her."  But  she  did 
not  show  it  in  the  least.  She  had  learned  her 
trade  too  well  for  that.  She  only  bowed  the 
most  proper  of  sewing-girl's  bows  and  smiled. 

There  were  a  few  words  more  about  the  work 
in  hand,  and  then  Miss  Roberts  went  out  in  her 
carriage.  Susy  did  not  see  her  again  till  even- 


3o8  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

ing,  when  she  came  in  to  pay  her  and  try  on  a 
dress. 

"  I  like  this,"  she  said,  decidedly.  Susy  noted 
the  voice  again,  and  took  comfort  in  it,  it  was  so 
true.  "  I  shall  want  you  more  than  the  one 
week,  I  know.  Can't  you  come  next  week,  and 
then  a  day  or  two  here  and  there  all  winter  ?" 

Susy  liked  this ;  being  taken  in  on  the  merits 
of  her  work.  Thus  far  the  two  girls  seemed  to 
understand  one  another.  If  Miss  Hurlburt  had 
looked  in  she  would  have  gone  away  nodding 
her  head  with  satisfaction. 

Before  the  two  weeks  were  up,  there  was  a 
succession  of  rainy  days,  and  Miss  Roberts  was 
more  at  home.  The  door  stood  open  sometimes 
now  between  the  blue'  room  and  the  larger  cham- 
ber. To  be  sure  Miss  Roberts  spent  the  larger 
part  of  these  rainy  mornings  in  the  library,  giv- 
ing a  lesson  to  a  little  deaf  and  dumb  boy  of 
whom  Mitty  had  told  Susy  something.  And, 
besides,  she  practiced  a  great  deal.  But  she  had 
a  way,  as  all  girls  have,  of  fussing  about  her  own 
room  more  or  less,  looking  over  the  ribbons  and 
trinkets  in  her  upper  drawer,  or  mending  her 
dainty  gloves,  and  her  favorite  place  for  reading 
was  a  large  arm-chair  by  the  window  thaf  looked 


MISS  ROBERTS  FORTUNE.  309 

into  the  garden.  Gradually  the  two  girls  talked 
more  and  more  together,  and  on  subjects  not 
connected  with  dressmaking. 

From  her  chair  by  the  window  Helen  would 
stop  her  reading  to  say  a  word  to  the  sewing- 
girl,  or  read  a  passage  aloud  which  she  thought 
she  might  enjoy. 

And  so  the  winter  was  going.  Spring  was 
coming,  and  changes  were  coming  with  it.  The 
visits  to  Mo  wry 's  building  were  more  and  more 
frequent,  but  shorter.  Mrs.  Moore  was  failing  fast. 

One  February  evening,  when  Helen  had  gone 
in  for  the  briefest  of  calls  with  a  little  jelly  and 
some  fresh  Neapolitan  violets,  she  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  the  bed  in  the  twilight,  and  a  ques- 
tion that  had  been  weighing  on  the  hearts  of 
both  these  women  for  months  was  settled  in  a 
few  short  words.  Harry  was  to  go  to  Helen. 
She  had  longed  to  ask  for  this,  but  had  not  dared 
till  now.  She  would  make  of  him  all  she  Could. 
She  would  love  him  faithfully  like  a  sister,  so 
long  as  they  both  should  live.  She  took  the 
trust  humbly,  with  bowed  head,  and  with  his 
dying  mother's  blessing. 

Before  long,  the  time  came.  It  could  be  but 
a  sad  time 'at  best,  but  Helen  had  never  so  put 


3 1  o  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

her  whole  heart  into  the  happiness  of  any  human 
being  as  sfre  did  now  into  Harry's.  She  delibe- 
rately determined  it.  She  worked  for  it.  The 
fitting  up  of  a  little  studio  in  the  tower,  and  of 
the  room  in  the  third  story  at  the  foot  of  the 
tower  stairs  had  purposely  been  left  till  now  that 
there  might  be  all  possible  means  to  divert  the 
boy's  mind  and  interest  him  in  his  new  life. 

There  were  excursions  to  the  city  to  choose 
the  wall-paper  and  carpets,  and  included  in  these 
excursions  were  visits  to  whatever  was  most  at- 
tractive in  the  city.  Helen  got  an  introduction 
from  Professor  Poussin  to  some  one  at  the  Ac- 
ademy of  Design,  and,  to  Harry's  great  delight, 
he  was  soon  enrolled  as  a  pupil  of  that  institution, 
and  was  to  go  down  twice  a  week  to  his  lessons. 

On  coming  home  from  the  city  one  evening, 
Helen  found  a  new  card  on  the  stand  in  the  hall. 
The  name  and  the  handwriting  were  familiar. 
John  Wright. 

"  Where  did  this  come  from  ?  Who  knows 
anything  about  it  ?"  asked  the  little  mistress,  a 
pleased,  bright  flush  coming  to  her  cheek. 

The  waiting -maid,  taking  Miss  Roberts's  bag 
and  parcels,  only  knew  that  a  tall  gentleman  had 
called,  and  being  informed  that  Miss  Roberts  was 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  311 

not  in,  but  Mis'  Cook  was,  had  asked  to  see  Mis' 
Cook. 

Mitty,  on  being  applied  to,  had  almost  as  brief 
a  statement  to  make.  "  He  had  asked  if  Miss 
Roberts  were  well,  and  said  he  was  very  sorry  !" 

That  very  evening  after  she  went  up  to  her 
own  room  (she  had  played  backgammon  with 
Harry  till  she  nearly  dropped  asleep)  she  wrote 
a  long  letter  to  Miss  Maria,  and,  in  a  postscript, 
begged  her  to  say  to  Professor  Wright  how  very 
sorry  she  was  not  to  have  seen  him,  and  that  she 
hoped  he  would  be  in  X again. 

One  day,  when  spring  had  fairly  come,  when 
Harry,  with  a  party  up  from  the  academy,  had 
gone  out  sketching,  and  Helen,  by  the  open  win- 
dow, was  reading  "  Our  Mutual  Friend"  to  her 
sewing-girl,  she  was  called  down  stairs  to  see  a 
gentleman.  "  A  gentleman  ?  What  sort  of  a 
gentleman,  Bridget?  Old  or  young?"  said  the 
little  lady,  smoothing  her  hair  before  the  mirror. 

"Oldish,  miss." 

"  Not  very,  is  he  ?  Is  it  the  same  gentleman 
who  came  a  few  weeks  ago,  Bridget?"  and  the 
mirror  showed  a  rosy  cheek,  which  very  much 
surprised  the  little  lady  smoothing  her  hair. 

"  Which  one,  miss?' 


?12  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

*J 

''  Oh,  never  mind,  if  you  don't  remember.  It's 
of  no  consequence,  Bridget." 

".Oh,  miss,  the  one  as  left  his  card,  and  you 
was  so  sorry." 

"  Yes." 

"  Yes.  'Twas  Sally  as  went  to  the  door  that 
time,  miss." 

"  Very  well,  that  will  do." 

But  it  was  not  the  same  gentleman;  it  was 
only  Mr.  Cropper,  of  the  gold-headed  cane,  and 
the  red  face  and  bald  head,  returned  from  Eu- 
rope. Miss  Roberts  did  not  seem  particularly 
glad  to  see  the  old  gentleman. 

"  I  thought  it  right  to  call,  Miss  Roberts, 
though  you  are  no  longer  under  the  special  care 
of  our  firm.  As  Mr.  Saxton's  former  ward,  we 
feel — I  may  say  I  feel  personally — an  interest  in 
your  fortunes." 

Miss  Roberts  could  but  thank  him. 

"  That  was  part  of  my  errand,"  said  the  lawyer, 
taking  out  his  note-book  and  seeming  to  look  at 
something  which  he  had  jotted  down.  "  You 
will  pardon  me  if,  prompted  by  the  interest  I 
have  referred  to,  I  mention  another  thing.  I 
have  been  somewhat  surprised  at  the  disposition 
you  have  made  of  some  of  your  money." 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  3 1 3 

"You  mean  the  Bee -Line,  sir,"  said  Helen, 
quickly. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  been  more  surprised  at  the 
largeness  of  the  amount  invested  in  that  com- 
pany." 

"  I  thought  three  hundred  shares  a  moderate 
amount  to  take  in  such  a  large  concern." 

"  But  you  have  taken  more  than  twice  that 
amount." 

"  Oh,  no,  sir ;  you  must  be  thinking  of  some 
one  else.  That  is  all  I  subscribed  for.  I  have 
my  papers  here." 

"  Let  me  see  your  papers,  if  you  please." 

The  old  lawyer  put  on  his  glasses  and  read  the 
papers  carefully.  "  This  is  all  you  have  ?  I  have 
been  looking  at  the  books  this  morning,  and 
your  name  is  certainly  down  for  eight  hundred 
shares." 

"  Then  there  must  be  some  mistake.  I  never 
heard  of  it  before." 

The  lawyer  took  out  his  note-book  again,  jot- 
ted down  a  word,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  The 
word  was  a  short  one — trickery.  "  You  will  allow 
me  to  ask,  and  you  will  consider  this  as  strictly 
between  ourselves,  if  you  please,  whether  you 
made  this  disposition  of  your  funds  simply  by 


314  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

your  own  desire,  or  acting  on  the  advice  of 
others  ?" 

"  By  my  uncle's  urgent  desire,  and  by  the  ad- 
vice of  one  of  your  partners." 

"  Which  advice  (am  I  right  ?)  was  not  at  first 
given  on  this  side  of  the  question." 

"You  are  right;  yes,  sir." 

The  lawyer  took  out  his  note-book  once  more 
and  jotted  down  a  word.  The  word  this  time 
was — bribery. 

"  One  thing  more.  I  have  reason  to  believe 
that  the  Bee-Line  railroad  is  not  a  safe  invest- 
ment. It  is  possible  that  I  may  be  able  to  re- 
move your  funds  in  some  way — to  save  you  from 
probable  loss.  Do  you  authorize  me  to  do  so  ?" 

Helen  considered  a  moment.  What  would 
her  uncle  say  ?  But  this  was  her  guardian's  mo- 
ney, and  this  was  his  friend  advising  her. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  would  like  to  have  you  do  it,  if 
you  can." 

After  this  interview,  the  Boffins  and  the  Wil- 
fers  were  not  quite  so  entertaining,  and  Susy 
wanted  some  trimmings.  "  I'll  go  down  town 
myself,"  said  Helen.  "  The  air  is  lovely  ;  and, 
then,  Mitty  can  get  off  her  box  for  Sairy  Jane. 
I  know  she  doesn't  want  to  go  this  morning." 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  3  j  5 

The  air  was  lovely.  "  March  was  a  dying 
through  soft  days  and  sweet."  There  was  a 
smell  of  coming  pinks  and  roses  in  the  wind. 
Down  town  the  streets  had  blossomed  out  in 
spring  bonnets.  The  shop-windows  were  gay 
with  light  dress-goods,  and  ribbons,  and  flowers. 
Helen  took  a  feminine  pleasure  in  shoppings ; 
that  is,  in  her  own  little  dainty  shoppings.  Mitty 
always  bought  the  uninteresting  things — sheets 
and  pillow-cases,  and  substantiate  generally.  But 
to-day,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  perhaps,  she 
hesitated  between  the  higher  and  lower  priced 
articles,  and  decided  on  the  latter.  This  fringe 
was  just  as  pretty  as  thread  lace,  and  in  thirty 
yards  it  did  make  some  difference  whether  one 
paid  a  dollar  and  a  half  or  half  a  dollar  a  yard. 
She  wouldn't  be  extravagant.  She  wondered  if 
Mr.  Cropper  was  right  about  that  company. 

As  she  came  out  past  the  dress-goods  counter, 
a  comical  sight  met  her  eyes.  Attracted  by  the 
mildness  of  the  day,  Mrs.  Converse  had  put  on 
her  finest  attire,  and  sailed  out  of  the  quiet  pre- 
cincts of  Shady  street.  She  wore  her  purple 
and  black  brocade  silk,  which,  being  originally 
made  with  a  train,  she  had  gathered  up,  by  a 
method  of  her  own  invention,  over  a  black  satin 


316  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

quilted  petticoat  of  ancient  date.  Over  her 
shoulders"  was  a  black  velvet  mantilla,  trimmed 
with  fringe  half  a  yard  deep.  Her  bonnet  was  a 
composite  of  several  styles  and  colors,  pink  satin 
being  the  prevailing  element,  and  a  long  white 
lace  veil,  embroidered  by  her  own  fair  fingers, 
floated  airily  behind  her.  On  her  hands  she 
wore  black  silk  mits,  and  from  one  arm  hung  a 
large  bag  done  in  bead-work.  She  looked  as  if 
she  had  stepped  out  of  a  fashion-plate  of  thirty 
years  ago. 

As  Helen  passed,  this  lady  was  bending  with 
the  air  of  a  connoisseur  over  an  elegant  piece  of 
lavender  poplin,  and  was  deeply  engaged  in  con- 
versation with  the  amused-looking  head  clerk,  to 
whom  she  had  sent  her  card  on  entering  the 
store.  Mrs.  Converse  enjoyed  these  shopping 
expeditions  immensely.  This  was  by  no  means 
the  first  since  Susy  had  gone  into  the  dress- 
making business.  For  Susy,  in  the  largeness  of 
her  heart,  had  never  thought  of  any  thing  but  a 
common  purse,  and  if  there  was  one  thing  which 
Mrs.  Converse  could  do  with  energy  and  success, 
it  was  spending  money.  But  hitherto  the  lady's 
purchases  had  been  chiefly  for  herself,  and  some- 
what more  modest  than  those  which  she  contem- 


MISS  ROBER  TS"  FOR  TUXE.  3  T  7 

plated  this  morning.  To  be  sure,  Susy  had 
stood  aghast  more  than  once  at  the  large  sup- 
plies of  pink  ribbons  and  showy  delaines  for 
morning-dresses,  and  at  a  corresponding  lowness 
of  the  funds,  but  mother  must  have  her  pleasures : 
what  was  a  little  money  ?  This  morning  Susy's 
virtues  were  to  be  rewarded.  "  She  is  a  good 
child,  though  she  has — I  must  confess  it,  with  re- 
gret— many  of  her  father's  peculiarities.  But  she 
does  not  do  herself  justice — It  is  highly  import- 
ant that  she  should  make  the  most  of  what 
attractions  she  does  possess.  I  intend  that 
henceforth  she  shall  dress  in  a  manner  becom- 
ing her  position — I  may  say,  in  a  manner,  be- 
coming her  mother."  With  this  in  view,  Mrs. 
Converse  had  sought  the  elegant  establishment 
of  Haberdasher  &  Co.,  and  sent  her  card  to 
Mr.  Williams,  the  head-clerk,  and  with  this  in 
view  she  now  bent  over  the  lavende*  poplin  and 
conferred  with  the  same  head-clerk.  "  What  do 
you  think,  Mr.  Williams  ?  I  should  place  great 
confidence  in  your  opinion.  It  is  not  too  delicate 
for  her  complexion,  you  think?  Oh,  Susy  has 
not  her  mother's  complexion.  It  has  been  a  trial 
to  me  that  Susy  is  so  unlike  me  in  that  particu- 
lar." 


3 1 8  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

Mr.  Williams,  who  was  of  an  observing  turn 
of  mind,  and  knew  very  well  who  it  was  that  got 
up  at  five  o'clock  every  morning  and  brushed 
out  the  front  hall  and  the  pavement,  and  trotted 
out  to  the  wood-shed  (or  had  done  so,  till  a  cer- 
tain young  gentleman  lodger  in  the  house  had 
discovered  that  his  constitution  required  the 
exercise  of  splitting  a  little  wood  every  night, 
and  piling  it  up  at  the  kitchen  door),  and  made  a 
fire,  and  got  breakfast,  and  went  to  market  before 
she  set  out  for  her  day's  work.  Mr.  Williams, 
meditating  within  himself  on  these  things,  con- 
sidered that  there  were  some  other  particulars, 
besides  complexion,  in  which  Miss  Converse  was 
unlike  her  mother. 

"  Do  you  think,  Mr.  Williams,  that  it  would 
become  her?  Would  you  like  to  see  her  in  it?" 

Mr.  Williams  thought  he  could  say  with  truth 
that  he  woi*ld  like  to  see  her  in  it. 

"  I  am  inclined  to  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Will- 
iams. I  think  I  will  have  it.  Yes,  fourteen  yards, 
if  you  please." 

Mr.  Williams  handed  the  goods  to  an  under- 
clerk  to  cut  off,  first  pinning  to  it  a  bit  of  paper 
on  which  was  written  "  20  yds."  He  was  a  sen- 
sible young  man,  and  knew  very  well  that  four- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  319 

teen  yards  of  poplin  would  never  make  a  lady's 
dress  in  these  days. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Williams,  green  silk,  if  you 
please.  I  would  like  to  look  at  green  silks." 

The  head-clerk  tossed  down  a  heavy  pile  of 
white-covered  parcels,  and  the  counter  was  soon 
robed  in  vivid  green.  Mrs.  Converse  selected 
the  most  delicate  shade,  and  (by  the  way)  the 
most  expensive  piece.  But,  feeling  a  vague  pre- 
monition that  the  money  in  her  pocket  might 
not  hold  out  to  the  extent  of  a  lavender  poplin 
and  a  green  silk,  at  the  same  time,  she  suggested 
that  the  latter  should  be  sent  up,  if  Mr.  Williams 
were  perfectly  willing,  for  her  daughter  to  look 
at  at  home.  It  might  be  that  she  would  have 
some  choice  in  shades.  And  this  matter  being 
satisfactorily  arranged,  Mrs.  Converse  paid  her 
bill,  had  money  enough  left  to  buy  herself  a  showy 
cotton  lace  collar,  and  returned  in  a  state  of 
great  mental  elevation  to  the  retirement  of  Shady 

street. 

The  poor  little  lady  spent  hours  in  considering 

how  she  could  most  elegantly  make  the  present- 
ation to  Susy.  She  contemplated  with  anima- 
tion Susy's  delight  in  the  reception  of  the  gift, 
and  had  a  thought  of  inviting  Miss  Hurlburt  and 


320  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Mr.  Williams  to  be  present  at  the  ceremony. 
But  she  was  doomed  to  cruel  disappointment. 

Susy  viewed  the  elegant  goods  in  blank  dis- 
may. "  Mother !"  she  exclaimed,  when  at  last  she 
found  her  voice,  "  how  could  you  ? — where  did 
you  get  the  money  ?" 

"  Money,  child,"  cried  Mrs.  Converse,  "  you 
know  I  am  always  ready  to  spend  to  the  last  far- 
thing for  my  children.  You  know  I  can  sacri- 
fice any  thing  for  you,  and  I  must  say,  Susan,  I 
must  say,  this  is  not  the  return  I  expected." 
And  the  poor  little  lady  assumed  a  melo-dramatic 
air  that  was  truly  dreadful.  "  When  I  was  young 
— ah ! — when  I  was  young" — and  the  large  hand- 
kerchief with  the  deep  lace  border  was  not  large 
enough  now  for  the  tears  that  rained  upon  it, 
"  when  I  lived  in  luxury  and  affluence,  my  mother 
used  sometimes  to  contrive  some  little  surprise 
like. this  for  her  daughters.  It  was  one  of  my 
greatest  pleasures  to  receive  a  gift  thus  chosen 
for  me  by  my  mother." 

"  But,  mother,"  cried  out  Susy,  filled  with  bit- 
ter compunctions,  and  yet  feeling  it  an  absolute 
necessity  to  establish  her  point,  "  mother,  don't 
you  see  the  case  is  different.  I  do  thank  you  for 
thinking  of  me,  and  choosing  these  dresses  so 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  32 1 

carefully  for  me.      But  we  are  poor ;  we  can't 
afford  to  dress  in  this  way." 

"  Susan — I  am  astonished  at  you  ;  you  speak 
so  coarsely.  Ah,  there  is  certainly  very  little  of 
your  mother  in  you,  as  Mr.  Williams  intimated 
to  me  this  morning.  But  even  he,  I  think, 
though  he  is  a  very  observing  young  man,  a  very 
observing  young  man,  even  he  would  hardly  have 
expected  this.  Ah,  well — ah,  well — I  never  re- 
alized before  how  "  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth 
it  is  to  have  a  thankless  child." 

Susy  kept  silence.  She  was  a  soft-hearted 
girl  and  a  good  daughter,  but  she  could  not  take 
injustice  meekly,  without  a  good  deal  of  a  strug- 
gle. She  folded  up  the  elegant  silk  and  poplin 
with  a  heavy  heart,  while  her  mother  dropped 
off  into  a  series  of  gentle  sobs.  Then  she  quietly 
made  the  tea  and  set  the  table.  Her  mother's 
face  was  still  buried  in  the  large  handkerchief 
when  she  was  done.  Susy  sat  down  on  a  low 
cricket  and  looked  at  her. 

"  It  was  her  love  that  made  her  do  it,"  she 
thought.  "  I  ought  not  to  be  ungrateful.  I  am 
not.  I  love  her  for  it.  But  I  was  harsh.  I  was 
sudden.  I  always  am.  I  never  shall  be  done 
shocking  her,  I'm  afraid.  But  I  can  try." 
14* 


322  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

She  jumped  up  and  ran  to  her  mother's  side. 
"  Mother,  tea's  ready.  And  please  don't  think 
me  ungrateful,"  and  she  dropped  on  her  knee 
before  the  little  lady. 

Mrs.  Converse  kissed  her,  injured  innocence 
sitting  complacent  on  her  countenance,  and  par- 
took of  her  tea  in  perfect  silence.  In  the  course 
of  the  evening,  Susy  managed  to  introduce  the 
subject  again,  and,  at  length,  learned  the  real 
state  of  things  in  regard  to  the  green  silk.  This 
was  a  relief;  but  when  she  looked  into  the  purse 
after  her  mother  had  gone  to  bed,  and  took  out 
the  shining  poplin  and  thoughtfully  hung  its  rich 
folds  over  the  little  red-covered  table,  her  heart 
sank  down  again. 

"  I  never  can  wear  that.  I  should  be  perfectly 
ashamed  of  myself,  and  it  would  ruin  me  as  a 
sewing-girl.  Besides,  it  isn't  suitable  for  a  walk- 
ing-dress. It  would  fade  in  a  week.  And  I  did 
so  need  a  neat  spring  walking-dress.  I  don't  see 
how  I  can  get  along  without  one." 

The  next  morning,  with  the  green  silk  under 
her  arm,  Susy  stepped  into  Haberdasher's  on  her 
way  to  the  avenue,  hoping  —  she  didn't  know 
why;  she  was  sure  it  was  nothing  to  her  —  that 
their  lodger,  Mr.  Williams,  had  not  yet  arrived. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  323 

But  the  head-clerk  was  in  his  place,  and  by  a 
dexterous  flank  movement  put  himself  ahead  of 
the  other  young  man,  who  was  advancing  toward 
Susy,  and  met  her  with  a  smile.  He  was  not 
precisely  amused-looking  this  morning,  the  smile 
notwithstanding.  With  many  blushes  —  it  was 
an  awkward  business,  to  be  sure  —  she  explained 
that  she  did  not  wish  to  keep  the  silk. 

"  Oh,  yes,  certainly.  Only  I  am  sorry  you 
should  have  brought  it  back  yourself.  I  under- 
stood from  your  mother  that  it  was  quite  doubt- 
ful about  your  taking  it,  but  she  admired  the 
shade,  and  wished  you  to  see  it.  Perhaps  some 
other  time  there  will  be  something." 

"  Now,  wasn't  that  kindly  done  ?"  said  the 
bright-eyed  young  woman  to  herself  as  she  hur- 
ried away.  But  the  poplin  weighed  on  her 
mind  all  day  and  the  next  day.  What  should 
she  do  for  a  spring  suit?  If  she  could  only  get 
rid  of  the  elegant  dress.  An  idea  came  to  her, 
but  she  disliked  to  entertain  it  even  for  a  mo- 
ment. Miss  Roberts  had  spoken  of  getting  an- 
other lavender  dress,  and  she  always  bought 
heavy  dresses  —  she  was  especially  fond  of  pop- 
lin. If  sJie  would  take  it  off  her  hands  ! 

Helen  did  not  notice  the  care  on  Susy's  face 


3  24  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

the  first  day.  "  The  Decline  and  Fall  off  the 
Rooshan  Empire  "  was  occupying  her  mind  too 
much  ;  but  the  next  day  after  dinner,  coming-  up 
from  three  very  merry  games  of  backgammon 
with  Harry,  and  opening  the  door  into  the  blue- 
room,  she  caught  all  in  one  glance. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of  Susy  ?  I'm  afraid 
those  ruffles  are  lying  heavy  on  your  conscience. 
I  call  Mitty  to  witness  that  it  was  all  your  own 
doings.  But  I  shan't  allow  myself  to  be  so  be- 
flounced  and  befurbelowed  again,  if  this  is  the 
effect  it  has  on  you." 

Susy  smiled,  and  shook  her  head.  And  when 
Mitty  had  gone  out  the  girls'  eyes  met  again. 
Helen  did  not  renew  her  question,  but  it  was  in 
her  face  still. 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  about  the  ruffles,"  said  Susy, 
uneasily.  "  I  believe  I  was  thinking  whether  you 
had  decided  to  get  that  lavender  dress  you  were 
speaking  of.  Of  course,  it  is  nothing  to  me  — 
I  mean,  it  is  none  of  my  business,  only  I  happen 
to  have  one  on  hand  —  there !  —  don't  suppose  I'm 
a  Jew,  and  keep  a  second-hand  shop — "  and  Susy 
stopped,  more  confused  than  she  had  been  in  the 
morning  about  the  green  silk,  and  devoutly  wish- 
ing she  had  not  said  a  word. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  325 

Helen  was  bewildered  but  kind,  and  respect- 
fully awaited  the  continuation  of  the  tale  ;  and, 
suddenly  growing  as  cool  as  possible,  Susy  lifted 
up  her  head  and  told  the  whole  story.  Helen 
saw  through  it  at  once.  She  was  growing  quick 
at  seeing  through  other  people's  troubles,  and 
she  felt  pretty  well  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Con- 
verse. 

"Thank  you,  Susy.  I'm  glad  you  told  me. 
But  would  your  mother  like  to  have  you  sell 
that  dress  ?  I  hadn't  quite  decided  about  the 
lavender.  I  will  think  it  over,  and  you  think  it 
over,  too,  please,  and  we  will  talk  about  it  again." 

The  next  day  Susy  was  at  home,  making  one 
of  the  delaine  morning-dresses  for  her  mother. 
Mrs.  Converse  sat  in  state  by  the  window,  with 
a  piece  of  gay  crotchet-work  in  her  lap.  The 
morning  was  going  a  little  dismally,  and  both 
mother  and  daughter  felt  something  like  a  flash 
of  sunshine  when  Miss  Roberts'  carriage  came 
up  to  the  door,  and  Helen,  in  a  gray,  silvery  silk 
and  a  jaunty  black  hat  with  a  white  gull's  breast, 
came  towards  the  house.  The  clear,  true  voice 
and  smile  that  she  brought  in  with  her,  were 
still  more  like  sunshine. 

"  How  many  yards  of  that  muslin  did  you  tell 


326  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

me  to  get,  Susy  ?  I  wasn't  quite  sure,  and  thought 
I  had  better  come  around  and  ask  you." 

Susy  told  her,  but  she  seemed  in  no  hurry  to 
go.  She  sat  and  chatted  about  the  fine  weather, 

the  rapid  growth  of  X ,  a  little  about  the 

spring  styles. 

"  I  am  going  to  appeal  to  Miss  Roberts,  daugh- 
ter, on  the  subject  just  now  under  discussion  be- 
tween us.  I  am  sure  Miss  Roberts  will  agree 
with  me,"  and  Mrs.  Converse,  always  gracious 
to  Helen,  and  delighted  to  show  her  recent  ele- 
gant purchase,  brought  out  the  lavender  poplin. 
Then  followed  another  version  of  Susy's  story. 
This  was  just  what  Helen  wanted. 

"  I  see  perfectly  well  now.  It  would  break  her 
heart  to  have  Susy  sell  it.  Peter,  stop  at  Haber- 
dasher's !" 

When  Susy  came  to  sew  one  day  early  in  the 
next  week,  there  was  a  pretty  light-brown  dress 
to  be  made.  "  To  be  made  in  a  suit  ?"  asked  the 
dressmaker,  in  business  fashion. 

"  Yes ;  and  make  it  as  pretty  as  you  please. 
You  know  some  pretty,  simple  style.  I  shall 
leave  it  a  good  deal  to  you,  for  Rufus,  and 
Harry,  and  I,  are  going  to  ride  this  morning. 
You  cut  the  gray  one  by  your  own  pattern,  I 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  327 

believe  you  said.  That  fits  well.  Do  this  in  the 
same  way.  I'll  be  home  before  it  is  time  to  hang 
the  skirt." 

Susy  went  to  work  in  her  usual  brisk  way. 
She  liked  the  dress  so  much.  She  was  not  sur- 
prised at  the  color,  for  Helen  had  never  worn 
regular  mourning.  Black  and  gray  in  the  winter 
• — light  shades  of  gray  and  lavender  this  spring, 
with  a  blue  ribbon  whenever  she  felt  like  it. 
Aunt  Matilda  had  considered  it  scandalous,  but 
Helen  knew  her  guardian's  dislike  of  mourning 
apparel,  and  would  not  disrespect  his  opinions 
in  doinghonor  to  his  memory. 

In  the  afternoon  Helen  lay  on  her  bed  with  a 
volume  of  poems  in  her  hand,  and  her  eyes  out 
in  the  tops  of  the  larch  trees,  when  Susy  tapped 
at  the  door. 

"  I'm  ready  to  hang  the  skirt  now.  Have  I 
disturbed  you  ?" 

"  No,  I  guess  not." 

She  sat  up  on  the  bed,  drew  her  little  white 
wrapper  around  her,  and  her  eyes  seemed  to 
shine  more  than  ever,  Susy  thought. 

"  Isn't  it  pretty  ?"  said  the  dressmaker,  holding 
the  dress  at  arm's  length.  "  Do  you  like  it  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  it  makes-up  beautifully.     And  it's  such 


328  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

a  brown  brown.  Some  browns  are  yellow,  and 
some  are  red.  It  isn't  often  you  find  one  so  light 
as  this,  certainly,  that  is  so  pure." 

"  Well,  Susy,  I  don't  feel  like  getting  up  to  have 
it  measured.  You'll  have  to  measure  yourself, 
I  guess.  The  fact  is  —  Susy  Converse,  come  here, 
and  sit  down  on  this  bed  a  minute.  Now,  please 
don't  be  a  naughty  girl,  and  be  proud  about  this 
—  I  have  hesitated  a  good  deal.  I  was  almost 
afraid  of  you.  I  know  you  are  a  proud  girl,  and 
so  should  I  be  in  your  place.  But  I  wanted  to, 
and  I  thought  you  would  let  me.  Why,  you  see 
it's  all  perfectly  simple  and  natural.  Here  we 
are,  two  girls,  about  the  same  age,  equally  well- 
educated  (for,  though  }^ou  have  been  the  quiet- 
est mouse  in  the  world  since  you  first  came  into 
this  house,  I  haven't  failed  to  see  that  you  have 
had  quite  as  solid  an  education  as  I  have,  and  arc 
as  well  read,  except,  perhaps,  in  French  and  Ger- 
man) ;  our  tastes  are  much  the  same,  and  I  think 
we  like  one  another.  There  are  only  a  few  little 
differences.  You  have  some  good  things  that 
I  have  not,  and  I  happen  to  have  —  no,  it  isn't 
happening — I  have  given  to  me  to  keep  —  a  lit- 
tle more  of  one  very  convenient  thing  than  you 
have.  Now,  are  you  going  to  be  naughty,  and 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  329 

not  let  me  make  over  to  you  a  little  of  my  extra 
share  that  rightfully  belongs  to  you  ?" 

Miss  Roberts'  cheeks  were  very  rosy,  and  her 
eyes  were  very  bright.  This  was  a  very  long 
speech  for  her  reserved  and  quiet  self.  She  had 
been  dreading  that  tap  at  her  door  all  the  after- 
noon. She  had  thought  strongly  of  shirking. 
She  had  gone  to  her  desk  once  to  write  a  note. 
Notes  were  a  great  deal  more  graceful  and  easy 
than  speeches.  Whatever  she  thought  of  her 
effort  now,  it  certainly  went  to  the  point. 

Susy  looked  up,  and  her  face  told  plainly  now 
'the  story  she  had  not  dared  to  let  it  tell  that 
morning  when  she  first  saw  Helen.  Neither  of 
the  girls  knew  exactly  what  was  said  next,  but 
in  two  minutes  they  were  laughing  heartily  to- 
gether. 

"  But  I  don't  know  what  to  do  next,"  Susy  said, 
at  last,  starting  up.  "  Do  give  me  something  to 
do.  You've  taken  my  occupation  away." 

"  Go  and  finish  the  dress,  and  take  it  home  all 
done.  And  you  must  keep  the  lavender,  Susy, 
and  make  it  up  and  wear  it  sometimes  for  your 
mother's  sake."  It  seemed  a  great  thing  to 
Helen  to  have  a  mother  to  do  anything  for. 

It  was  only  a  few  weeks  after  this  that  Mr. 


330  JI775.S  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Cropper  called  again.  He  need  not  have  come 
to  tell  the  news,  for  Helen  had  just  that  moment 
(sitting  by  the  broad,  open  window  of  her  ele- 
gant breakfast-room,  while  Harry  played  croquet 
solitaire  on  the  lawn)  read  it  in  the  morning 
paper.  The  Bee-Line  bubble  had  burst.  "  Our 
respected  fellow-citizen,  Roger  Wood  and  many 
others  were  deeply  involved  in  the  ruin." 

Helen  took  the  paper  to  the  library,  and  point- 
ed to  the  paragraph  as  she  shook  the  lawyer's 
hand.  She  was  a  little  pale  and  frightened,  it 
must  be  confessed. 

The  lawyer  kindly  allowed  no  long  suspense.  ' 
"  Your  uncle  has  declared  himself  a  bankrupt, 
and  you  have  lost  very  heavily.  It  is  impossible 
to  say  just  how  much  to-day.  I  had  papers 
drawn  up  for  a  suit  against  Wood  &  Co.  (the 
-firm  of  Cropper  &  Co.  had  been  changed  during 
the  last  few  weeks,  by  the  way,  and  was  now 
minus  the  junior  partner's  name),  but,  of  course, 
it  is  too  late  now.  We  could  get  nothing  out  of 
them." 

Failed /  Helen  had  visions  of  a  log-cabin  on 
a  boundless  prairie,  and  wondered  if  there  would 
be  anybody  to  rescue  her  grand  piano  and  a 
favorite  cup  and  saucer  from  the  hands  of  the 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


33* 


cruel  auctioneer.  Yet,  as  she  considered  pres- 
ently, and  as  the  kind-hearted,  red-faced  lawyer 
assured  her,  there  were  still  the  H.  F.  and  E. 
bonds,  as  good  as  gold,  and  there  was  her  own 
original  property,  and  there  was  her  valuable 
house. 

"  Quite  enough  to  meet  the  reasonable  ex- 
penses of  a  moderate  family,  to  say  nothing  of 
one  young  lady,"  said  the  bachelor,  with  rather 
a  sharp  look. 

Enough  for  Harry — enough  to  fulfill  the  sacred 
promise  made  that  February  evening,  thought 
the  young  lady,  with  thankfulness.  The  next 
thought  was  of  Uncle  Roger's  family. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Cropper  had  gone  and  Harry 
was  at  work  in  his  studio,  she  put  on  her  hat  and 
started  for  their  house.  She  did  not  care  to  have 
the  carriage  this  morning,  and  it  was  not  far. 
She  was  a  little  surprised  to  find  the  house 
looking  so  much  as  usual  as  she  came  up  the 
serpentine  walk,  but,  within,  things  were  more 
suitable  to  her  ideas  of  a  bankrupt  family.  The 
maid  at  the  door  had  evidently  been  crying,  and 
there  was  the  sound  of  men's  voices  from  the 
little  front  reception-room,  which,  for  the  first 
time  in  her  remembrance,  had  the  door  shut. 


332  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Helen  was  going  directly  up-stairs  to  Aunt  Ma- 
tilda, but  her  uncle  came  out  of  this  room  and 
met  her.  He  looked  haggard  and  old,  and  Helen 
felt  her  heart  grow  soft  toward  him. 

"  Good  morning,  my  dear.  I  am  sorry  I  made 
that  mistake  for  you." 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Roger,  never  mind  me" — and  she 
spoke  in  the  honesty  of  her  heart — "  I  am  very 
sorry  for  you." 

She  laid  her  little  hand  in  his,  and  was  glad 
that  the  question  of  that  suit  had  come  no 
nearer.  He  was  her  mother's  brother.  The 
strong  man  seemed  touched,  and  bent  and  kissed 
the  little  hand. 

"  Have  you  any  plans,  Uncle  Roger  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  my  brother  -  in  -  law  in  Chicago  has  a 
place  for  me.  I  shall  go  out  immediately,  and 
begin  again, —  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder." 

Up-stairs,  Aunt  Matilda,  bewildered  and  dis- 
trait, sat  before  her  empty  fire-place  (it  was. the 
first  of  June)  with  her  feet  on  the  fender.  She 
had  forgotten  to  put  on  her  back  hair,  and  held 
tightly  in  her  hand  an  old  broken  cologne- 
bottle  without  contents  or  cork.  She  seemed  to 
be  affected  much  as  people  sometimes  are  at  a 
fire.  Lily,  pale  and  utterly  listless,  lay  on  the 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  T  UNE.  333 

lounge  in  her  own  room.  Dora,  brought  home 
by  telegram  last  night,  rushed  in  from  the  un- 
packing of  her  trunk,  "  hugely"  delighted  to  see 
her  cousin,  embracing  her  heartily,  and  plung- 
ing at  once  into  a  flood  of  Oxford  talk. 

"  You  are  the  most  unfeeling  creature,  Dora," 
groaned  Lily,  from  the  lounge. 

"  No,  I'm  not  unfeeling  either.  I'm  awfully 
sorry  for  father,  and  I  know  we  shall  all  miss  the 
money ;  but  I  declare  it  will  give  us  all  a  jolly 
shaking  up,  and  that's  what  we  need,  and  get 

us  out  of  this  stupid  X .  And  I  can  teach 

school.  I'm  going  to.  They  give  famous  sal- 
aries out  West,  and  you  and  mother  shall  live 
like  queens." 

Helen  felt  a  wish  to  have  Dora  at  Miss  Pres- 
cott's  longer.  She  pondered  her  own  exchequer 
and  wondered  if  she  couldn't  manage  it,  and 
wondered  what  Miss  Maria  would  say,  and  wish- 
ed she  could  see  her.  How  would  it  do  to  run 
up  to  Oxford  for  a  day  ?  But  this  was  unneces- 
sary ;  for  the  next  day  (being  Saturday)  who 
should  drop  down,  by  the  early  train,  but  Miss 
Maria's  very  self!  Was  ever  little  lady  so  Avel- 
come  ?  Was  ever  little  lady  so  glad  to  come  ? 
so  cordial?  so  '  interested  in  everything?  —  in 


334 


JffSS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


Harry,  with  whom  she  played  five  games  of 
croquet,  in  her  "  dear  children,"  Helen  and  Dora. 

Helen  had  Dora  to  dinner,  having  previously 
had  a  private  talk  with  Miss  Maria  about  her. 

"  That's  just  what  I  came  for,  my  dear,  to  see 
if  it  seemed  best,  and  tell  her  to  come  back  if  it 
did  seem  best.  But,  after  seeing  them  all,  I 
rather  think  she  had  better  go.  It  will  be  worth 
more  to  her.  They  need  her." 

In  two  weeks  they  were  all  off,  and  a  brand- 
new  family  from  Water  street,  never  heard  of 
on  the  avenue,  sending  their  brand-new  furniture 
past  Helen's  windows  into  the  house.  There 
was  time  now  for  Helen  to  look  into  her  own 
affairs,  and  with  the  help  of  the  kindly,  red- 
faced  lawyer,  she  soon  knew  just  how  she  stood 
with  the  world.  There  was  a  difference,  to  be 
sure,  between  the  thousands  which  used  to  come 
in  and  the  hundreds  which  came  in  now.  There 
was  need  of  economy.  There  must  be  retrench- 
ment somewhere.  But  where  to  begin  ?  Helen 
thought  of  everything.  Dress  ?  She  had  all  her 
dresses  for  the  season  already.  Table  ?  Ser- 
vants ?  While  Mitty  reigned,  there  could  be 
few  changes  here.  She  tried  it,  though. 

"  Mitty,  how  do  you  think  we  could  get  along 


JIIJSS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  335 

without  Sally  ?  She  does  n't  do  much.  It  seems 
to  me  she  is  n't  an  absolute  necessity." 

"  Who  would  do  up  the  breakfast  things  ?" 

"  7  would  ;  I'd  like  to." 

Mitty  smiled  an  unbelieving  smile. 

"  Might  like  it  a  day  or  two,  perhaps.  And 
who  would  go  to  the  door?" 

"  Bridget.     She  could  do  it  perfectly  well." 

"And  do  the  clear-starching  and  the  fine-iron- 
ing?" 

"  The  laundress  who  does  the  other  washing." 

At  length  Mitty  consented,  and  Sally  went 
with  a  capital  "  character,"  and  the  breakfast 
things  were  washed  every  morning  by  fair,  little 
hands  that  were  none  the  worse  for  the  exercise. 

But  this  was  only  a  trifle.  What  else  ?  Susy  ? 
She  might  have  her  less  frequently.  But  the 
money  was  of  so  much  use  to  Susy.  But  other 
people's  money  was  just  as  good.  There  was 
Mrs.  Solomon  Jones.  She  was  groaning  the  last 
time  she  called  over  the  general  inability  and 
want  of  moral  character  of  the  X dress- 
makers, and  wishing  they  could  import  a  few 
who  would  keep  their  engagements. 

Mrs.  Solomon  Jones  had  a  note  shortly  from 
Miss  Roberts  on  the  subject  of  dressmakers,  and 


336  MJSS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

was  soon  rejoicing  in  Susy  Converse's  deft  and 
tidy  workmanship. 

But  still  this  was  not  enough.  Was  there  any- 
thing else?  Helen  had  promised  Harry  a  trip 
to  the  White  Mountains  this  summer.  It  would 
be  a  grievous  trial  to  her  to  break  that  promise. 
She  sat  down,  guide-book,  pencil,  and  paper  in 
hand  and  figured  the  whole  thing  up.  The  first 
result  was  to  give  up  going  herself.  There  were 
the  Mitchell's — the  nicest  of  people — and  one  of 
the  young  ladies  was  Harry's  class-mate  at  the 
academy.  They  were  going ;  he  could  go  with 
them,  and  would  enjoy  it.  The  second  result 
was  another  period  of  deep  thinking.  Was  there 
another  retrenchable  place?  The  question  was 
not  settled  when  the  dinner-bell  rang.  It  renew- 
ed itself  as  Harry  talked  with  animation  of  his 
coming  pleasure.  He  should  not  be  disappointed 
in  a  single  particular.  He  should  have  all  the 
pleasure  he  could  out  of  it.  In  the  evening,  after 
tea,  Miss  Roberts  was  called  into  the  kitchen. 
Dennis  stood,  hat  in  hand,  awkwardly  viewing 
the  ceiling.  He  had  a  brother  going  to  Califor- 
nia. He  was  thinking  of  going,  too.  He  had 
no  objections  to  the  place.  He  was  sorry  to  leave. 
He  had  always  been  treated  handsomely  by  Mr. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  337 

Saxton  and  by  the  young  mistress,  but  they  said 
"  he  could  do  better." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  lose  you,  Dennis.  You  have 
been  very  faithful,"  said  the  young  lady,  feeling 
very  old  and  matronly,  indeed.  "  But  if  you 
can  better  yourself,  you  must  go,  I  suppose." 

But  what  was  to  become  of  the  flowers?  A 
household  of  women  could  never  see  to  them, 
Peter  never  would.  She  could  n't  give  up  her 
flowers.  So  the  problem  went  on  increasing, 
and  the  answers  did  not  always  come  at  once. 
If  it  were  not  for  Mitty — but  Mr.  Saxton  had  ex- 
pressly desired  that  she  should  remain,  so  long  as 
she  pleased  at  the  housekeeper's  post. 

One  day  (it  was  while  Harry  was  gone  to  the 
mountains),  Mitty,  in  pursuance  of  her  house- 
keeping duties,  was  superintending  the  washing 
of  the  library  windows.  She  stood  by  one  of 
them  just  as  the  post-man  came  up  the  steps  with 
a  letter  in  his  hand,  and  she  went  to  the  door  to 
take  it.  At  the  same  instant  a  boy  came  up  the 
steps  with  a  telegram.  The  telegram  was  for 
Mitty  herself,  and  ran  as  follows  :  "  Sairy  Jane 
has  had  a  fall.  Laid  up.  Come.  J.  Sampson." 

Poor  Mitty  had  never  received  a  telegram  be- 
fore. That  of  itself  was  enough  to  frighten  her. 
IS 


338  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Then  the  news.  She  sat  down  on  the  stairs,  as 
white  as  her  folded  lace,  and  the  girls  at  last 
got  her  to  her  room.  She  still  held  the  two  let- 
ters, her  own  ill-boding  yellow  one,  and  the 
other  which  was  directed  to  Miss  Roberts,  and 
when  she  reached  her  room,  she  laid  them  both 
carefully  away  in  the  "  Scott's  Commentary"  on 
the  table.  Miss  Roberts  came  home  in  a  few  min- 
utes, and  up  to  the  house-keeper's  room.  Mitty 
sat  on  the  bed  weeping — all  her  personal  property, 
bonnets,  dresses,  caps,  under- clothing  spread 
about  her.  "  I  don't  know  what  to  do  no  more 
than  the  man  in  the  moon,"  she  groaned. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  do.  Where's  a  morning  paper? 
Your  train  goes  at  12.50.  Bridget,  you  ask  Ann 
to  have  a  good  lunch  and  a  cup  of  tea  ready  at 
twelve,  and  order  the  carriage.  Mitty,  you  just 
lie  down  and  rest.  I'll  pack  the  trunk." 

Mitty  allowed  herself  to  be  treated  like  a  child, 
and  by  twelve  o'clock  the  work  was  done.  When 
lunch  was  ready,  she  was  surprised  to  see  Helen 
come  down  with  hat  and  gloves  on. 

"  You  ain't  a  goin'  too  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  am,  Mitty.  There's  a  junction  that 
might  trouble  you,  as  you've  never  gone  this 
way  alone.  I  shall  be  home  to  tea,  Bridget." 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  330 

"  Well,  I  never  thought !  What  a  woman  she 
has  grown." 

That  same  week  of  summer — one  sunny  after- 
noon—  Professor  Wright,  sitting  by  his  study 
window,  had  been  turning  over  the  leaves  of  his 
Greek  Testament,  and  now  looked  off  over  the 
peaceful  fields  to  the  Rockshire  hills.  At  length, 
pushing  aside  the  book,  he  drew  paper  and  pen 
toward  him  and  wrote  a  short  letter  as  follows  : 

"My  DEAR  Miss  ROBERTS, — It  was  a  disap- 
pointment to  me  not  to  see  you  when  I  called  at 
your  house  a  few  weeks  since,  and  lest  I  may 
suffer  the  same  ill-fortune  another  time,  I  think  it 
well  to  inform  you  that  I  am  going  to  try  again. 
If  I  hear  from  you  that  you  are  to  be  at  home 
next  Thursday  or  Friday,  I  shall  probably  call 
on  one  of  those  days.  If  you  are  not  to  be  at 
home,  or,  if  for  any  reason,  it  will  not  be  conve- 
nient or  agreeable  to  you  to  see  me,  do  not 
trouble  yourself  to  write. 

"  The  summer  is  in  Oxford  again,  making  it 
the  prettiest  place  in  the  world.  The  hills,  as  I 
write,  are  looking  precisely  as  they  did  that 
afternoon,  now  more  than  a  year  ago,  when  you 
and  Miss  Haas  honored  my  study  with  a  visit. 
"  Yours,  sincerely,  JOHN  WRIGHT." 


340  MISS  ROBERTS    FORTUNE. 

This  was  the  letter  that  came  at  the  same  time 
with  Mitty's  telegram.  Two  years  afterwards 
Helen  found  it  in  the  house-keeper's  room,  care- 
fully laid  away  in  "  Scott's  Commentary." 


"  For  as  his  hand  the  weather  steers, 
So  thrive  I  best  'twixt  joys  and  tears, 
And  all  the  year  have  some  green  ears." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MORE  than  a  year  of  the  new  order  of 
things  had  passed  away.  There  had 
been  some  difficulties,  many  perplexities,  many 
givings  up.  But,  after  all,  things  had  settled 
down  and  smoothed  out  into  a  very  peaceful, 
pleasant  life.  There  had  been  no  going  down  to 
Siloam  that  first  summer  —  not  even  for  a  day. 
But  Harry  had  had  his  mountains,  and  Miss 
Roberts  had  done  more  sewing  than  she  had 
ever  done  in  her  life  before.  With  Susy  now 
and  then  to  "  start"  a  piece  of  work  and  bright- 
en up  the  day,  Helen  thought  she  was  getting 
on  famously,  and  would  be  a  capital  seamstress 
one  of  these  days. 

After  Mitty  had  been  gone  for  a  few  weeks 
there  came  a  letter  in  an  orange-colored  envel- 
ope to  this  effect : 

"  Miss  ROBERTS  —  RESPECTED  Miss,  —  Mrs. 
Cook  desires  me  to  state  that  she  would  of 

(343) 


344  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

wrote  before  this,  had  it  not  ben  for  a  bad  finger 
(Mitty  had  never,  to  Helen's  knowledge,  written 
a  letter  in  her  life).  She  is  in  good  health  at 
present,  and  had  a  safe  journey  from  the  junc- 
tion. My  wife  is  still  lade  up. 

"  Yours,  with  respect,    J.  SAMPSON. 
"  P.  S.  Mrs.  Cook  desires  me  to  state  that  she 
likes  very  well,  and  as  my  wife  is  feable,  she 
would  like  to  remain  for  the  present  if  you  can 
get  along  without  her." 

This  was  satisfactory.  Mitty  received  instruc- 
tions to  stay  as  long  as  she  pleased,  and  changes 
that  could  not  have  taken  place  under  her  ad- 
ministration, were  now  speedily  made.  The 
house  service  was  reduced  to  cook  and  waitress. 
The  little  mistress  taught  her  white  fingers 
many  new  lessons.  Not  only  were  the  breakfast 
things  washed  up  on  the  table,  but  a  capacity 
for  occasional  pies  and  puddings  was  developed. 
Miss  Roberts  adopted  the  house-keeper's  keys, 
and  inspected  the  kitchen  and  pantries  with  a 
very  wise  face.  All  this  took  time.  Between  the 
daily  lessons  to  Harry,  and  the  practice,  and  the 
unwonted  amount  of  sewing,  and  the  French 
and  German  readings  which  she  tried  to  keep 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  345 

up,  every  moment  was  busy.  But  the  little  lady 
thrived,  nevertheless,  and  rather  liked  it.  Pretty, 
domestic,  womanly  ways  came  upon  her.  She 
sang  about  the  house  more  than  she  had  ever 
been  known  to  do  before.  Still,  as  we  have 
said,  there  were  some  hard  times.  There  were 
puzzling  questions.  It  was  the  harder,  because 
nobody  knew  of  her  losses. 

The  subscription  papers  came  around  as  they 
had  done  in  the  days  of  her  wealth  and  great- 
ness. The  young  minister  still  brought  his  chari- 
ties and  laid  them  at  her  feet.  Mr.  Saxton's  old 
ladies,  whom  she  had  tried  not  to  lose  sight  of, 
still  lived,  and  seemed  to  multiply.  She  had 
often  to  choose  between  two  courses  which  seem- 
ed equally  her  duty.  She  had  to  let  some  calls 
go  by  unheeded.  She  had  to  ponder  long  some- 
times before  devising  any  method  of  doing  what 
she  felt  she  must  do.  By  a  singular  coincidence 
sometimes,  a  pair  of  bracelets  or  a  breast-pin 
would  disappear  from  her  bureau-drawer,  and 
the  same  day  Bridget  go  off  heavily  laden  with 
a  basket  for  old  Mrs.  Brown.  Harry's  expenses 
increased.  Books,  artist's  materials,  clothing,  in- 
struction, were  costly  things.  The  flowers  ?  they 
had  been  taken  care  of  in  a  wonderful  way.  Den- 


346  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

nis'  place  had  remained  unfilled  for  weeks.  Things 
took  care  of  themselves  as  well  as  they  could. 

One  day  old  Mr.  Smith,  the  Scotch  florist, 
came  over  to  see  some  plant  he  had  given  Den- 
nis. It  seemed  a  pity  to  have  that  green-house 
left  without  a  keeper.  Could  she  na  find  a  mon 
for  Dennis'  place.  He  humbly  begged  her  par- 
don, but  what  would  she  think  of  this  ?  He 
needed  more  room.  If  she  would  na  be  offended, 
might  his  boy  Jeems  have  the  care  of  her  garden 
and  green-house,  and  find  a  place  on  the  shelves 
for  some  of  his  plants  ?  There  was  room  enough. 
He  did  not  care  for  the  flowers,  he  only  wanted 
a  growing-place.  She  was  welcome  to  the  bloom. 

Miss  Roberts  opened  her  padlocked  book  the 
night  after  this  had  happened.  I  do  not  know 
exactly  what  she  wrote  in  it,  but  she  felt  very 
much  like  the  old  German  minister  who  prayed, 
"  Oh,  Lord,  when  I  try  to  do  a  little  thing  for 
Thee,  and  give  up  something  near  to  my  heart, 
Thou  comest  and  givest  me  back  a  thousand 
times  as  much  —  and  I  feel  so  humble  and  asham- 
ed before  Thee." 

So  the  green-house  went  on  flourishing,  and 
bloom  was  not  wanting  in  the  two  hundred  and 
fifty  rose  plants  that  were  shortly  packed  away 


*    MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE:  347 

on  the  shelves.  As  for  Peter,  he  seemed  a  neces- 
sity, but  the  horses  were  reduced  to  Rufus  and 
the  two  blacks,  and  the  carriages  to  a  phaeton  and 
the  closed  winter  coach. 

News  from  Chicago  was  encouraging.  Dora 
was  at  the  head  of  a  flourishing  school  in  a  town 
not  far  from  home.  Uncle  Roger  was  secretary 
of  some  insurance  company  at  a  good  salary. 
They  had  hired  a  furnished  house,  and  were  liv- 
ing comfortably.  Lily  had  become  engaged  to 
a  well-to-do  business  man,  and  was  to  be  married 
soon.  Helen  thought  her  grown  prettier  than 
ever,  when,  according  to  an  urgent  invitation, 
she  shut  up  her  house,  took  Harry,  and  went  out 
for  a  two  months'  visit,  which  was  to  include  the 
wedding.  A  busy  and  a  merry  visit  it  was. 
There  were  so  many  things  to  be  done.  All  the 
new  arts  Helen's  fingers  had  learned  came  into 
requisition  here. 

Aunt  Matilda  did  not  take  to  domestic  life  on 
a  small  scale.  Lily  had  been  house-keeper  and 
manager-general,  and,  besides  growing  pretty, 
had  grown  womanly  and  thoughtful.  The  girls 
spent  many  a  sunny  winter  morning  together 
cutting,  planning,  sewing,  and  wisely  conferring 
on  housekeeping  present  and  future. 


348  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

One  morning,  Helen  was  busy  on  an  infinite 
series  of  little  satin  loops  for  the  wedding-dress, 
left  by  the  dress-maker  to  be  finished,  when  Lily 
came  up  behind  her,  and  lovingly  pinched  her 
cheek. 

"  You're  a  jewel,  dear.  And  who  would  have 
thought  of  your  doing  these  things !  You  used 
to  hate  so  to  do  'fussy  '  things." 

"  I  told  you  I  had  been  taking  lessons  in  the 
ornamental  branches." 

"  Wasn't  that  funny  ?  But,  do  you  know,  Helen 
Roberts,  you're  a  great  deal  nicer  girl  than  you 
used  to  be  —  more  like  other  people.  Mother 
and  I  were  talking  about  it  last  night." 

Helen  laughed  a  quick,  little  laugh,  and  threw 
the  wedding-veil  over  Lily's  head,  but  the  pleased 
color  that  came  to  her  cheek  was  almost  as  deep 
as  Lily's  under  the  white  veil. 

And  during  this  visit  she  had  an  opportunity 
to  say  a  word  to  Lily,  that  she  had  long  had  on 
her  heart.  Lily  had  come  up  late  from  a  visit 
with  her  Henry,  and,  after  a  succession  of  very 
creaky  tiptoeings  about  the  room  while  divesting 
herself  of  her  clothes,  crept  as  noiselessly  as  pos- 
sible into  bed,  to  find  Helen  wide-awake  in  the 
starlight.  At  this  the  two  girls,  as  is  the  manner 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


349 


of  girls,  fell  into  a  hearty  laugh,  and  afterwards 
into  deep  discourse.  They  grew  confidential  as 
the  stars  looked  in  upon  them.  Lily  spoke  of 
her  Henry  in  glowing  words,  and  Helen  did  her 
best  to  be  sympathetic. 

"  And  he's  so  good,  too,"  said  Lily,  with  a  lit- 
tle sigh.  "  A  great  deal  better  than  I  am.  He 
was  saying  to-night  how  we  ought  to  be  better 
now,  we  love  each  other  so,  and  how  we  must  help 
each  other.  I'm  afraid  I  sha'n't  help  him  much." 

"  Not  help  him,  Lily  ?  Why,  you  must.  Why, 
if  I  loved  a  good  man  and  he  loved  me,  and 
was  going  to  marry  me,  why,  Lily,  I  should  want 
to  be  so  pure  —  I  should  want  every  word  and 
thought  to  be  so  good  and  true  —  I  should  fear 
so  to  be  a  hindrance  to  his  goodness,"  and  Helen 
stopped,  looking  out  with  solemn  eyes  upon  the 
stars.  She  had  spoken  very  solemnly.  It  seemed 
a  very  great  thing  to  her. 

"  Helen  !"  said  Lily,  quickly,  and  she  bent  over 
and  tried  to  look  down  into  her  eyes.  But  she 
only  kissed  her  and  drew  her  closer.  And  then 
their  voices  dropped  lower,  and  Helen  said,  a 
little  tremulously  at  first,  the  words  she  knew  she 
ought  to  say ;  perhaps  they  might  be  used  and 
blessed. 


350  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

While  Helen  was  in  Chicago,  she  received  a 
long  letter  from  Miss  Hurlburt  with  some  ill- 
spelling  and  grammar  in  it,  but  with  a  certain 
charming  ring  of  her  active,  cheery  life,  and  tell- 
ing all  the  news  in  her  friendly,  gossippy  way, 
and  chiefly  about  Susy.  Susy  had  waked  one 
morning  and  found  herself  very  lonely  in  her 
little  house.  Poor  Mrs.  Converse's  wants  and 
troubles  were  over.  Mr.  Williams  came  to  the 
door  with  a  basket  of  white  cut  flowers,  and  a 
very  kind  face.  Miss  Hurlburt  took  the  lonely 
child  right  to  her  heart,  and  in  a  few  days  to  her 
home.  Susy  now  had  the  third  story  front  of  the 
little  house  where  Miss  Hurlburt  with  her  clock 
and  her  kittens  had  lived  so  long.  She  still 
sewed  for  Mrs.  Solomon  Jones  and  a  few  others, 
and  was  looking  out,  though  not  anxiously,  for 
whatever  more  congenial  work  might  come  to 
her. 

On  her  way  home,,  at  Niagara  Falls,  after  she 
had  left  the  bridal  party,  whom  should  Helen 
meet  but  Professor  Wright,  and  ride  with  him 
nearly  all  day !  He  was  as  good  as  ever,  and 
very  kind  to  Harry,  but  in  some  strange  way,  it 
was  impossible  for  Helen  to  tell  how  or  where, 
very  much  changed.  Was  he  graver  ?  He  was 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  35! 

always  grave.  Was  he  less  kind  ?  He  had  never 
before  given  her  so  distinct  an  impression  of  his 
kindness.  She  could  not  tell  what  it  was.  She 
wondered  a  little  about  his  engagement.  Was  it 
not  time  for  those  people  to  be  married  ?  But 
she  had  heard  Miss  Haas  remark  that  she  be- 
lieved in  long  engagements. 

During  this  summer  there  was  a  visit  from 
Miss  Maria,  refreshing  and  brightening  beyond 
expression.  Harry  had  never  laughed  so  much 
before.  Helen  had  never  sung  so  much  over  her 
household  cares.  The  long  days  together  were 
delicious.  They  talked  over  everything,  almost. 
Helen  had  a  thought  of  asking  about  that  long 
engagement,  but  somehow  she  did  not.  The 
evening  before  Miss  Maria  went,  however,  it  did 
occur  to  her  to  ask  another  question. 

"  Miss  Maria,  did  you  ever  tell  Professor 
Wright  how  sorry  I  was  to  lose  that  call  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  dear,  and  he  said  he  must  try  again." 

All  these  things  having  happened,  it  is  now 
nearing  Christmas  of  the  second  winter  since 
Mitty's  departure.  Miss  Roberts  sits  in  her 
library.  She  wears  a  morning  dress  of  some 
soft,  light-grayish  tint,  and  has  a  spray  of  ivy 
twined  in  her  hair ;  for,  notwithstanding  all  the 


352  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

economies,  she  has  not  lost  a  certain  trick  of 
dainty  dressing. 

It  is  snowing  without,  but  there  is  a  bright  fire 
here,  and  Harry,  with  fun  in  his  eye,  is  reading 
"  Martin  Chuzzlewit."  Miss  Roberts  has  just  had 
an  idea,  and  her  face  is  bright  with  it.  She  goes 
to  her  secretary,  takes  out  paper  and  pencil,  and 
does  a  deal  of  arithmetic.  She  substracts  a  silk 
dress  from  a  winter  outfit.  She  adds  up  a  col- 
umn something  like  this :  Fare  to  city,  hotel, 
tickets,  sundries,  and  multiplies  by  six.  She  then 
subtracts  an  Astrachan  cloak  from  the  winter 
outfit.  "  I'll  do  it.  I'll  give  myself  a  treat.  I 
don't  need  that  cloak  and  dress.  The  old  ones 
are  pretty  enough,"  she  says,  and,  catching  Har- 
ry's attention  she  asks,  "  Shall  we  go  to  the  city 
and  spend  the  holidays  with  Miss  Maria  and 
some  other  nice  people  ?" 

Harry  is  delighted  as,  to  say  the  truth,  he  gen- 
erally is  with  Miss  Roberts'  suggestions.  "  He 
can't  enjoy  the  Oratorios,  but  there  are  lots  of 
other  things.  He  has  never  had  enough  of  the 
city,"  the  lady  considers,  and  proceeds  to  write 
a  letter. 

"DEAR  Miss  PRESCOTT, — I  am  getting  very 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  353 

home-sick  for  Oxford,  and  I  am  writing  to  beg  you 
to  give  me  a  little  piece  of  it  for  a  few  days.  I  want 
you  all  to  come  down  and  spend  the  holidays 
with  me — you  and  Miss  Maria,  Mrs.  and  Miss 
Haas,  and  Professor  Wright,  if  he  will  come. 
There  is  to  be  a  week  of  Oratorios  in  the  city 
you  know,  and  my  programme  includes  that,  or 
as  much  of  it  as  any  of  you  care  for.  I  am  sure 
you  cannot  deny  me,  one  of  you.  Will  you  be 
so  kind  as  to  ask  the  professor  for  me,  and  urge 
it  more,  perhaps,  than  I  should  dare. 

"  Your  always  grateful 

"HELEN  ROBERTS." 

They  did  not  deny  her — one  of  them.  Pro- 
fessor Wright  did  not  give  his  answer  at  once, 
but,  thinking  it  over  in  his  room,  the  gracious- 
hearted  man  smiled  gravely  to  himself.  "  She 
does  not  forget  her  old  teacher.  She  would  like 
to  see  him  with  the  rest.  It  is  a  kindly  thought. 
And  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  me.  I  don't  know 
that  I  should  deny  it  to  myself."  And  the  young 
lady,  when  she  received  the  answer,  thought, 
"  How  glad  I  am  !  I  thought  he  would  come 
with  Mrs.  and  Miss  Haas.  We  shall  have  one  of 
the  nice  old  times." 


354  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

The  house  was  beautiful  that  Christmas-eve. 
Harry  and  the  faithful  Jeems  had  hung  the  ever- 
green wreaths  with  great  taste,  and  set  the  orange 
trees  and  the  large  flowering  azalias  in  the  bay- 
windows.  The  folding  doors  were  open  and  the 
spacious  rooms  thrown  together.  The  grates 
gave  forth  a  soft,  ruddy  glow,  and  the  twilight 
was  just  falling,  when  they  all  came.  It  was  the 
pleasantest  of  evenings.  They  say  the  professor 
had  not  forgotten  to  put  the  "  Four-part  Songs" 
into  his  little  black  bag.  Miss  Haas  played  on 
the  grand  piano,  Mrs.  Haas  chattered  and  was 
charmed  with  every  thing,  and  Miss  Prescott, 
with  the  little  slate,  made  Harry's  acquaintance 
in  a  corner.  Miss  Hurlburt,  trotting  up  the 
avenue  on  some  mysterious  Christmas-eve  er- 
rand, and  having  it  in  her  heart  to  step  in  and 
speak  to  Helen,  looked  in  through  the  broad 
windows  on  the  cheerful  scene,  and  trotted  off 
again  with  a  pleased  face.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Parley, 
on  the  contrary,  walking  out  under  the  frosty 
heavens  and  coming  opposite  the  brightly-lighted 
house,  was  not  thus  affected.  He  crossed  the 
street  immediately,  rang  the  bell,  and  soon  made 
one  of  the  party. 

Helen    was  proud  to  introduce  the  professor, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  .        355 

and  watched  the  interview  with  interest,  but, 
strangely  enough,  the  two  men  did  not  get  on 
at  all.  They  sat  and  glowered  at  one  another  in 
a  remarkable  way,  and  heavy  silences  fell  be- 
tween them,  which  the  ladies  had  to  relieve  as 
best  they  could.  The  professor  would  not  show 
off  in  the  least.  He  never  had  been  so  "poky." 
The  minister,  to  do  him  justice,  certainly  did  his 
best  to  be  polite.  He  was  profoundly  respectful, 
and  urged  the  professor  to  preach  for  him  next 
Sabbath,  and  Helen  adding  a  hearty  intercession, 
the  point  was  carried.  The  next  morning  there 
was  a  little  basket  of  choice  flowers  at  every 
body's  plate,  and  after  breakfast,  in  an  informal 
way,  a  great  exchanging  of  small  paper  parcels. 
In  the  course  of  the  day  Helen  found  on  her  sec- 
retary a  volume  of  George  Herbert,  in  black 

« 
velvet  and  gold.     On  the  fly-leaf  were  written 

her  name  and  the  date,  in  a  hand  which  she  recog- 
nized as  one  she  had  seen  on  her  German  exer- 
cises long  ago. 

X. 

This  discovery  had  the  effect  of  deciding  her 
on  a  point  till  now  unsettled,  and  in  the  evening 
there  appeared  in  the  professor's  room  a  large 
volume  of  photographic  views  of  Jerusalem, 
which  had  been  tempting  the  eyes  of  all  lovers 


356  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

of  choice  things  for  some  weeks  on  a  bookseller's 
counter.  Perhaps  it  was  nobody's  business,  if  a 
coral  pin  and  ear-rings,  brought  by  Uncle  Roger 
from  Naples,  was  missing  from  Miss  Roberts' 
drawer  about  this  time.  Perhaps,  on  the  other 
hand,  this  same  pin  and  ear-rings  "  might  have 
been  sold  for  three  hundred  pence  and  given  to 
the  poor."  Who  shall  undertake  to  prove  the 
wisdom  of  a  woman's  gifts  of  gratitude. 

This  Christmas  morning,,  after  the  paper  par- 
cels had  been  disposed  of,  was  given  to  church, 
the  afternoon  to  social  pleasures.  The  professor 
stole  about  the  soft-carpeted  halls  and  parlors, 
and  gazed  at  the  pictures  or  dived  into  book- 
cases. Helen  was  afraid  he  was  restless,  but  his 
old,  kind,  interested  look  and  tone  came  back,  if 
she  crossed  the  room  to  speak  to  him.  He  was 
marvelously  struck  by  the  portraits,  and  took 
more  interest  in  the  histories  belonging  to  them 
than  Helen  had  ever  done.  The  young  hostess 
did  not  forget  the  engagement,  and  managed 
(with  the  active  co-operation  of  Mrs.  Haas)  all 
sorts  of  little  retreats  and  privacies  for  the  lovers 
so  that,  owing,  to  her  thoughtmlness,  there  was 
a  deal  of  mental  and  moral  philosophizing  done 
that  week. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


357 


"  Do  you  notice,  Deborah,"  said  Miss  Maria, 
after  the  sisters  had  gone  up  to  their  room  that 
night,  "  do  you  see  how  the  child  cleaves  to  that 
old,  exploded  theory  ?  Would  you  tell  her?" 

"  No,  dear,  I  think  I  would  not  tell  her  now." 

"  What  a  dear  child  she  has  grown,"  continued 
the  younger  sister,  unfastening  her  neck-ribbon, 
"  How  clear  and  happy  her  eyes  look.  She 
seems  to  have  forgotten  all  about  herself.  It 
seems  to  me  it's  a  wonderful  growth :  don't  you 
think  so  ?" 

"  I  should  think  so,  if  I  did  n't  believe  this/' 
said  Miss  Prescott,  reading  from  her  little  hymn- 
book — 

"  But  He  by  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own." 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  Helen  felt  a  won- 
derful sense  of  awe  in  riding  to  church  in  the 
same  carriage  with  the  sermon.  Indeed,  the 
calm  of  the  Oxford  Sundays  seemed  to  have 
fallen  on  the  whole  party,  and  pervade  the  whole 
city.  Helen  fancied  that  the  church  seemed 
quieter,  and  that  the  spry  young  minister  came 
in  with  a  gentler  tread  than  usual.  The  sermon 
was  like  the  Oxford  sermons  of  old,  and  the  same 
solemn  peace  filled  her  heart  when  it  was  done. 


358  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Helen  waited  for  her  guest  at  the  door  of  her 
pew.  Both  the  gentlemen  coming  down  the 
aisle,  met  her  with  a  smile.  One  of  them,  at 
least,  had  admiration  in  his  eye,  and  thought  how 
pleasant  a  thing  it  would  be  to  have  a  sweet  and 
reverent  face  like  that  waiting  for  one  every 
Sunday. 

Monday  was  Mondayish.  They  were  to  go  to 
the  city  in  the  afternoon,  and  they  scattered 
rather  aimlessly  in  the  morning. 

Helen  was  surprised,  and  not  a  little  pleased, 
on  coming  in  from  a  drive  with  the  ladies,  to  find 
Miss  Hurlburt  and  Professor  Wright  talking 
together  in  the  friendliest  way  before  her  library 
fire.  The  professor  had  been  spending  his  morn- 
ing strolling  about  the  city,  and  poking  into  the 
public  library  and  museum,  and  Miss  Hurlburt 
out  on  one  of  her  collecting  expeditions,  and, 
thinking  she  would  just  drop  in  and  ask  Helen 
who  that  good  man  was  that  preached  yesterday, 
found  the  good  man  himself  on  Miss  Roberts' 
door -steps.  This  was  too  much  for  her.  She 
could  n't  resist  introducing  herself  and  asking 
if  he  wouldn't  stay  and  make  a  few  remarks  at 
the  maternal  meeting  Thursday  afternoon.  Miss 
Hurlburt  made  a  point  of  attending  the  maternal 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  359 

meetings  herself.  She  saw  no  reason  why  it  was 
not  perfectly  proper  for  Professor  Wright  to  do 
so  likewise.  But  being  obliged  to  give  up  this 
desire  of  her  heart,  she  fell  back  on  "  that  pass- 
age in  Romans"  which  had  long  exercised  her 
mind,  and  begged  that  he  would  give  her  his 
views  on  the  point.  She  sat  now  with  her  bon- 
net-strings untied,  and  the  sun  shining  straight 
into  her  eyes.  Her  bright,  old  face  was  full  of 
theology.  Helen  came  in  smiling,  and  drew 
down  the  shade  before  she  took  the  chair  the 
professor  handed. 

"  How  did  you  two  people  get  together,  I 
wonder." 

"  Your  minister  here  is  telling  me  what  he 
thinks  about  that  passage  I  was  speaking  to  you 
of.  I've  been  wanting  to  ask  somebody  for  ever 
so  long,"  said  Miss  Hurlburt,  too  much  engrossed 
for  particular  explanation.  "  I  like  Mr.  Parley's 
views,  in  general ;  but  a  body  never  can  get  hold 
of  him — he's  always  in  a  hurry.  And  then  about 
that  other  verse,  sir — the  thirteenth." 

The  professor,  good-naturedly,  expounded  his 
opinion. 

Miss  Roberts,  well  pleased,  stroked  the  feather 
on  her  hat,  and  waited  for  a  chance  to  say  a  word. 


360  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  Now,  Miss  Hurlburt,"  she  urged,  when,  at 
last,  an  opportunity  offered,  "  you  see  your  bon- 
net is  inclined  to  stay  (it  was  hanging  by  one 
string  now),  just  take  off  your  shawl,  please,  and 
stay  to  dinner  with  us  and  see  all  my  friends." 

"  Oh,  no,  my  dear,  I  must  go  this  very  minute. 
Here 't  is  dinner-time  and  I've  only  got  fifteen 
dollars ;"  and  with  a  hearty  shake  of  the  good 
professor's  hand,  and  a  very  fervent  "  God  bless 
you,  child,"  in  Helen's  ear,  she  was  off. 

"  That  is  a  rare  woman,  I  opine,"  said  the 
professor,  stepping  towards  Helen,  and  looking 
down  upon  the  feather. 

"  Isn  't  she  ?  I  am  so  glad  you  found  each 
other  out.  She  is  one  of  my  great  admirations." 

Then  there  was  a  pause,  and  the  tall  man  still 

• 
looked  down  upon  the  feather.     Perhaps  he  was 

thinking  what  a  very  foolish  thing  that  stroking 
of  it  was. 

"  I  was  wondering  if  you  have  many  of  those? 
— those  great  admirations  ?"  he  said,  when  the 
silence  had  brought  a  pair  of  brown  eyes  up  to 
his. 

"  No,  sir,  not  many,  I  guess  —  not  as  many  as 
I  wish  I  had  sometimes ;  but  they're  great,  you 
know."  She  blushed  a  little.  It  seemed  to  her 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  361 

like  rather  a  personal  subject.  But,  to  the 
simple-minded  man  the  pyramids  of  Egypt 
would  have  been  as  much  so.  And  just  then 
the  others  came  in  and  dinner  was  ready. 

The  afternoon  took  them  to  the  city.  There 
they  found  plenty  to  see  and  to  hear.  They 
went  in  full  force  to  the  first  oratorios,  even 
Harry  begging  that  he  might  see  the  Hallelujah 
Chorus.  By  the  third  evening,  most  of  the 
ladies  were  quite  worn  out.  Even  Miss  Haas, 
who  was  wont  to  boast  her  Amazonian  strength 
and  superiority  to  fatigue,  was  quite  under  the 
weather  with  severe  headache  ;  and,  talking  the 
matter  over  at  tea,  it  appeared  that  only  Helen 
and  Professor  Wright  were  in  condition  and 
spirits  to  go.  It  was  to  be  only  a  concert,  to  be 
sure,  as  Mrs.  Hass  urged  in  favor  of  a  social 
evening  at  home,  but  then  "  there  be  concerts 
and  concerts,"  as  the  professor  urged,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  question.  Helen  felt  a  little 
sorry  about  it.  She  was  afraid  it  would  be  dull. 
If  Miss  Maria  only  felt  like  going.  But  Miss 
Maria  was  bent  on  finishing  her  new  book  before 
she  went  to  sleep.  The  professor  certainly  made 
the  best  of  it.  He  went  out  before  it  was  time 
to  go,  and  brought  soft,  fragrant,  blush-roses  for 
16 


362  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

his  lady  to  wear.  She  put  them  in  her  hair  and 
among  the  ribbons  at  her  white  throat.  Some- 
how the  evening  was  wonderfully  pleasant.  He 
did  not  seem  to  miss  the  others  much. 

The  next  day  Miss  Haas  continued  poorly. 
Helen  sat  by  her  all  the  morning,  like  a  dutiful 
little  hostess,  till  her  invalid's  dinner  of  broiled 
chicken  and  plum -pudding  came  up,  and  Mrs. 
Haas,  just  home  from  a  matinde,  took  the  nurse's 
place.  After  lunch,  the  party  separated.  Harry 
went  with  Miss  Prescott  and  Miss  Maria  to  see 
a  friend  in  the  suburbs. 

"  The  professor  is  going  up-town  to  call  on  an 
old  acquaintance,"  said  Mrs.  Haas.  "  I  shall  stay 
with  Theo.  You  had  better  lie  down  and  rest, 
dear." 

Not  inclined  for  that  particular  method  of 
resting,  the  young  lady  took  her  worsted  -work 
and  went  into  their  little  private  parlor.  To  her 
surprise,  Professor  Wright  soon  came  in.  He 
appeared  to  be  in  no  haste  about  going  up-town, 
for  he  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  looked  as  if  he 
were  in  for  an  afternoon  of  newspapers.  Pres- 
ently, glancing  over  at  his  vis-d-vis,  he  asked  if 
he  should  read  aloud. 

There  is  nothing  a  man  likes  better  than  to 


MISS  ROBERTS  FORTUNE.  363 

read  aloud  to  an  intelligent  woman  whose  fingers 
are  busy  with  useful  work  of  some  kind.  It  is  ("  I 
speak  as  a  man,"  and  beg  pardon  of  the  strong- 
minded),  the  normal  state  of  things.  It  is  a  work 
of  supererogation  to  read  to  a  man.  Besides,  a 
man  has  "  views,"  and  is  n't  apt  to  be  a  reverent 
hearer.  A  woman,  however  appreciative,  is,  by 
the  law  of  her  nature  (I  again  beg  pardon  of  the 
strong-minded,  and  make  an  exception  in  their 
favor),  more  likely  to  keep  silence.  If  the  reader 
feels  that  she  takes  it  in,  if  she  has  a  bright  or  a 
thoughtful  thing  to  say  when  he  is  done,  it  is  all 
he  wants.  Then  the  domestic  side  of  her  nature 
(that  which  is  sweetest  and  best  in  man  or 
woman),  is  in  play,  and  gives  an  inexpressible 
sense  of  coziness — something  perfectly  unattain- 
able between  two  men. 

Helen  was  in  a  bright  mood  that  afternoon, 
and  had  pleasant  little  things  to  say.  Then  she 
was  young,  and  ignorant  about  some  things,  and 
asked  questions.  A  man  dearly  likes  to  answer 
questions.  The  professor  looked  in  his  sweetest 
mood.  When  they  were  tired  of  the  newspapers 
he  looked  out  of  the  window  and  said  something 
about  the  oratorio  in  the  evening.  Helen  was 
unaffectedly  sorry  that  Miss  Haas  should  be 


3  64  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

again  unable  to  go.  "  I'm  afraid  it  is  very  stupid 
for  him,"  she  thought,  and  she  added  aloud,  "  I 
beg  you  won't  feel  obliged  to  go  with  me,  Pro- 
fessor Wright,  unless  you  really  wish  to  go.  I 
am  very  sorry  our  party  has  been  so  broken  up. 
It  would  be  too  bad  if  we  could  help  it." 

"  I  do  not  consider  myself  an  object  of  pity," 
said  the  professor,  with  a  curious  look  in  his 
eyes.  Then  throwing  down  his  paper,  he  cross- 
ed the  room,  and  sat  down  on  the  end  of  the 
sofa  very  near  Helen's  chair.  Helen  was  sitting 
by  the  window  that  looked  out  on  the  street, 
working  a  bunch  of  pansies.  The  soft-colored 
silks  and  wools  lay  in  her  lap,  and  the  flowers 
were  growing  fast  under  her  white  fingers.  The 
professor  watched  her  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
seemed  interested  in  the  work. 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  tell  you  a  story,"  he 
said,  at  last. 

The  brown  eyes  looked  up,  all  ready  for  the 
story,  and  presently  he  began. 

"  I  knew  a  boy  once — a  poor  boy.  He  lived 
with  a  poor  man  and  woman  up  in  a  little  back- 
wood  town  in  Maine.  They  were  not  his  father 
and  mother.  He  never  knew  his  father  and 
mother.  They  were  poor  people,  too,  and  had 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  365 

died  when  he  was  a  mere  baby.  But  this  rough 
man  and  woman,  rather  than  see  the  child  die, 
took  him  home  and  gave  him  of  their  rough  fare. 
He  learned  nothing  but  the  lumbering  trade, 
and,  till  he  was  ten  or  twelve  years  old,  thought 
of  nothing  else.  Then,  by  some  means,  he  got 
hold  of  a  few  books.  His  father,  as  he  called  the 
man  he  lived  with,  taught  him  a  little  of  reading, 
and  ignorantly  enough  he  read.  Then  he  heard 
of  a  night-school  in  a  neighboring  village.  He 
went  to  it,  and  finally  became  its  teacher.  Well, 
it's  a  stupid  story,  I'm  afraid  you  think — " 

Helen  looked  up  quickly,  but  did  not  speak, 
and  the  professor  went  on. 

"  He  got  an  education,  or  what  people  call  an 
education,  somehow,  but  he  has  since  learned 
that  the  best  part  of  that  education  was  the  strug- 
gle to  get  it.  Now,  he  is  trying  to  make  some 
use  of  what  he  has  gained.  He  is  not  a  rich 
man,  and  never  will  be.  He  has  no  portraits  of 
his  ancestors  to  hang  in  his  hall.  He  has  noth- 
ing to  be  proud  of." 

Helen  was  looking  up  again,  her  whole  face 
shining  with  something  that  looked  like  pride 
and  triumph.  Just  then  the  door  opened. 

"Ah,  here  you  are,  professor,"  said  Mrs.  Haas. 


366  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  Do  you  know  I'm  in  such  trouble  about  that 
poor  child.  Her  head  aches  constantly,  and  her 
dinner  does  not  seem  to  agree  with  her." 

As  the  professor  received  this  announcement 
in  absolute  silence,  and  an  awkward  pause  en- 
sued, Helen  felt  it  incumbent  on  her  to  say  some- 
thing. 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  Mrs.  Haas.  What  can  we 
do  ?  Had  she  better  see  a  physician  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,  dear.  I  hardly  think  so.  I  don't 
think  it  anything  serious.  But  we  are  so  unused 
to  illness.  Theo  has  always  been  so  well,  you 
know,  professor.  I  think,  my  dear,  if  you  would 
sit  with  her  a  little  while,  it  would  cheer  her." 

Helen's  face  flushed  quickly.  Impoliteness  to 
her  guests,  or  anything  that  looked  like  it,  was 
very  far  from  her  heart.  She  began  to  gather 
up  her  wools,  but  before  she  went,  she  turned  to 
Professor  Wright.  "  I  thank  you  for  telling  me 
that  story,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  and  slowly. 
"  I  shall  never  forget  it." 

An  hour  or  so  after,  she  had  braided  her  beau- 
tiful hair,  and  stood  before  the  mirror  fastening 
her  collar.  She  was  dressed  simply,  in  a  soft, 
black  silk,  and  her  velvet  jacket,  and  white  furs, 
and  the  hat  with  the  long  ostrich  plume  lay  on 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  367 

the  bed  all  ready  for  the  evening.  The  plush 
rose-bud  she  had  worn  all  day  was  too  withered 
for  further  service,  and  an  unaccountable  feeling 
came  over  her  which  prevented  her  taking  one 
of  those  she  had  kept  fresh  in  a  tumbler  on  the 
wash-stand.  So  it  was  her  favorite  Dresden  pin, 
with  her  own  particular  little  cherub  on  it,  that 
nestled  among  the  soft  blue  ribbons  to-night. 
The  face  that  met  hers  in  the  mirror  was  rather 
a  serious  one.  Watching  with  dyspeptics  is  rather 
a  serious  business,  to  be  sure,  and  Helen  had  felt 
tired  and,  somehow,  wonderfully  cheerless  since 
entering  her  little  room.  Her  bright  mood  had 
changed  so  quickly.  As  she  turned  away,  she 
caught  a  glimpse  of  her  figure  in  the  glass,  and 
all  her  nameless  discomfort  culminated  in  a 
sharp,  sudden  pain.  She  put  her  hands  before 
her  face  and  stood  still,  leaning  on  the  bed  before 
her.  She  wished  she  was  n't  lame.  It  was  a 
hard,  cruel,  bitter  agony.  She  had  not  felt  it  so 
since  she  was  a  little  girl.  It  was  so  bad,  that  at 
last,  she  locked  her  door  and  fell  down  on  her 
knees  before  the  bed.  She  was  still  kneeling, 
though  with  a  quieter  face,  when  the  dinner 
gong  sounded  through  the  house.  Nobody  no- 
ticed it  if  she  was  a  little  pale  at  dinner,  and  if 


368  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

she  talked  a  little  less  than  usual,  it  was  fully 
made  up  by  the  lively  Mr.  Parley,  who  had  hap- 
pened down  to  the  city  on  business,  and  when 
he  saw  the  X party,  rushed  across  the  din- 
ing-hall  and  took  Miss  Haas'  vacant  seat  by 
Helen's  side.  But  the  pain  lingered  dull  in  her 
heart,  and  did  not  go  away  till  she  was  sitting, 
three  hours  afterwards,  by  the  professor's  side, 
listening  to  the  blessed  music.  "  For  He  is  meek 
and  lowly  in  heart,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto 
your  souls,"  warbled  the  sweet  singer.  And  rest, 
and  peace,  and  comfort  did  come  like  a  flood. 
Her  companion  was  watching  her  face,  and  would 
not  have  spoken  for  the  world.  But  when  the 
strain  had  ceased,  she  turned  to  him,  her  face 
full  of  it  and  sighing,  as  we  sometimes  do,  for 
very  comfort. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  he  whispered,  as  he  would  have 
done  to  a  child,  bending  over  her  to  catch  her 
answer.  And  like  a  child  she  answered. 

"  Oh,  it  is  such  a  wonder  that  we  don't  always 
stay  there  —  down  there  where  it  is  so  sweet  and 
cool  —  that  we  always  have  to  keep  coming  to 
get  the  rest  and  peace." 

The  professor  did  not  speak,  but  he  answered 
her  look  by  one  of  his  rarest  and  kindliest  smiles, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  369 

and  drew  his  big,  friendly  arm  a  trifle  closer. 
And  the  orchestra  went  on  into  the  drums  and 
thunder  of  the  overture  to  the  next  part. 

It  was  the  last  of  their  pleasures  in  the  city. 
The  next  day  Miss  Haas  was  still  ailing,  the  best 
of  the  music  was  over,  the  sights  could  easily  be 
seen  in  the  morning,  and  the  idea  of  going  home 
by  the  afternoon  train  commended  itself  to  every 
body. 

The  doctor  came  to  see  Miss  Haas,  and  re- 
ported nothing  more  serious  than  an  aggravated 
case  of  Christmas  dinner.  She  took  to  her  bed, 
however,  and  kept  it  for  two  days.  Helen  no- 
ticed that  a  large  stock  of  paper  and  the  fountain 
pen  were  deposited  under  the  sheets,  and  when 
her  mother  was  out  of  the  room  the  invalid  scrib- 
bled vigorously. 

Sitting  by  her  side  the  day  after  they  had  come 
home,  Helen  had  watched  the  signing,  folding 
and  enveloping  process,  and  was  astonished  be- 
yond measure  when,  that  being  finished,  the  pa- 
tient leaped  past  her  out  of  bed,  rushed  to  the 
door,  locked  it,  took  the  key,  and  holding  the 
precious  document  aloft,  addressed  her  in  a  tragic 
manner. 

"  You  will  never  let  the  mother  know  ?  Prom- 
16* 


370 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


ise  me,  Lenchen.  I  must  ask  you  to  do  a  favor 
for  me,  and  you  cannot  do  it  till  you  have  prom- 
ised. Keep  it  from  the  little  mother,  I  pray  you." 

Very  much  bewildered  and  somewhat  alarmed, 
Helen  first  made  earnest  endeavors  to  get  her 
patient  back  to  bed,  and  failing  in  these,  demand- 
ed a  further  explanation  of  the  mystery. 

"It  is  a  letter  to  my  Emil  —  my  friend  —  be- 
trothed !  The  professor  must  have  it  before  to- 
morrow, or  it  cannot  go  by  this  week's  mail. 
The  mother  is  our  deadly  enemy.  To  her  he  is 
but  a  poor  musician,  but  to  me  —  he  is  my  be- 
trothed, my  prince  — '  mdunlich,  edel,  fur  stitch  f  I 
have  told  you  all  now.  I  am  in  your  power. 
You  will  not  betray  me  ?" 

Feeling  a  good  deal  as  if  an  earthquake  had 
taken  place,  Helen  made  the  required  promise, 
put  the  thick  letter  in  her  pocket,  and  drew  the 
coverings  over  this  most  remarkable  young  wo- 
man, who  now  clambered  into  bed  with  as  much 
agility  as  she  had  just  exercised  in  leaving  it. 

"  Then  you  are  not  —  I  was  taken  by  surprise 
—  I  had  always  supposed — "  said  Helen. 

"  The  dear  professor  to  be  my  betrothed,"  sup- 
plied Miss  Haas.  "  Ah  !  that  would  be  a  great 
joy  to  the  mother.  But,  no.  He  is  my  best  of 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  ^i 

friends,  and  Emil's.  If  it  had  not  been  for  him, 
I  know  not  how  I  should  have  endured  these 
weary  years.  I  wished  to  remain  in  the  father- 
land with  my  Emil,  but  the  good  professor  made 
it  seem  right  to  me  to  come  with  the  mother. 
Emil  works  night  and  day  for  the  home  which 
he  has  promised  me  ;  and  when  a  few  more  years 
have  gone,  or  when  the  rich  uncle  dies  to  leave 
him  an  inheritance,  he  will  come  for  me." 

Somehow  this  spectacle  of  devoted  love  seemed 
remarkably  beautiful  to  Helen. 

"  I  wish  him  all  success,  and  both  of  you  all 
happiness,"  she  said  warmly. 

"  And  if  you  will  see  that  the  professor  has  the 
letter  in  time  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  will  go  right  away." 

"  And  I  will  go  to  sleep,"  said  the  invalid. 

Helen  went  through  the  long  hall  to  the  top 
of  the  stairs.  The  professor,  it  appeared,  was 
traversing  the  lower  hall,  about  to  come  up.  By 
what  principle  it  was  that  instead  of  going  down 
stairs,  she  turned  down  the  passage  that  led  to 
the  housekeeper's  room,  and  there  sat  regarding 
the  Scott's  Commentaries,  and  rocking  violently 
for  about  five  minutes,  the  young  lady  did  not 
attempt  to  explain. 


372  MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

"  There  is  no  hurry,"  she  reflected.  "  The 
professor  will  pass  the  office  when  he  goes  out 
with  Mr.  Parley  to  the  evening  meeting,  and  we 
are  safe  enough  from  Mrs.  Haas  till  she's  home 
from  that  sleigh-ride  an  hour  hence." 

Nevertheless,  after  having  smoothed  her  hair, 
and  changed  her  neck-ribbon,  and  stepped  into 
the  kitchen  to  say  a  word  about  the  muffins,  she 
proceeded  to  the  library.  There  was  a  pleasant 
scene.  The  professor  and  Harry,  in  a  glow  of 
fire-light  and  under  the  porcelain  shade,  were 
turning  over  school-books  and  talking  briskly. 
The  professor,  whom,  by  the  way,  Harry  regard- 
ed as  a  great  usurper  of  his  special  rights  and 
privileges,  brought  up  a  low  chair  for  Helen,  and 
made  her  one  of  the  group.  She  handed  him 
the  letter  at  once.  He  took  it  with  a  queer  smile, 
a  little  like  that  with  which  he  began  his  story 
the  other  day,  and  with  a  questioning  look  down 
into  her  eyes,  that  made  her  turn  them  uneasily 
away.  She  looked  toward  Harry,  wishing  for  a 
change  of  subject. 

"  Your  pupil  does  you  credit,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor, pleasantly,  perhaps  taking  the  hint.  The 
eyes  came  back  again,  very  pleased  and  child-like. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  been  examining  him  a 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


373 


little.  I  have  been  wanting  to  ask  some  one 
about  him.  How  is  he  on  the  Latin  ?" 

"  I  think  his  knowledge  of  the  language  and 
his  interest  in  it  quite  remarkable.  You  are  go- 
ing to  give  him  Greek,  he  tells  me." 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  his  mother  wished  it.  How  soon 
ought  he  to  begin  with  it  ?" 

"  In  another  year,  I  should  think  ;  after  he  has 
finished  Horace." 

"  I  am  dreading  it  a  little  "  —  the  familiar,  child- 
look  remained  through  all  this  comfortable  little 
talk.  "  I  don't  like  to  give  him  up,  but  I  know 
nothing  of  Greek,  and  if  I  take  lessons  myself, 
as  I  have  thought  of  doing,  I'm  afraid  the  second- 
hand instructions  will  not  be  as  good  as  he  ought 
to  have." 

"  I  should  have  no  fear  of  that.  Have  you 
thought  of  a  teacher  for  yourself?"  he  added 
after  a  little. 

"  No,  sir." 

"  May  I  come  down  and  give  you  weekly  les- 
sons?" with  an  eagerness  that  was  new  to  her 
in  the  quiet,  grave  man. 

"  Why,  Professor  Wright,  how  delightful !" 

"  They  have  been  asking  me  to  give  a  short 
course  of  lectures  here  next  winter,"  he  explained. 


374  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"If  I  might  have  my  former  German  pupil  in 
Greek,  I  think  I  would  come." 

The  child -like  eyes  grew  fuller  of  pleasure 
and  pride.  "  For  the  lectures'  sake,  and  for  the 
Greek's  sake,  I  hope  you  will  come." 

"You  will  consider  it  settled,  then  ?"  he  asked, 
quickly,  for  the  young  minister,  invited  to  tea, 
was  now  taking  off  his  coat  in  the  hall. 

"  It  is  a  long  time  to  keep  a  promise,  perhaps, 
but  will  you  promise  not  to  take  another  teacher?" 

"  I  will,  indeed,  sir,  and  I  thank  you  very 
much,"  and  she  turned  to  meet  her  guest. 

The  continuation  of  Miss  Haas'  romance,  be- 
gan that  afternoon  in  Helen's  room,  came  soon- 
er than  anybody  expected.  In  April  of  that  new 
year,  Miss  Maria  wrote  as  follows : 

"  You  should  have  been  here,  dear  child,  through 
our  recent  excitements.  You  would  have  been 
as  amused  as  we  all  have  been.  I  will  begin  at 
the  beginning.  I  was  dusting  the  parlors  one 
day,  flying  about  near  the  windows,  when  a  long- 
haired, light-haired,  fair-faced  little  man  coming 
up  the  walk,  attracted  my  attention.  He  bore  a 
violin-case  under  his  arm,  and,  when  I  went  to 
the  door,  inquired,  in  very  broken  English,  for 
Miss  Theodosia  Haas. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  375 

"  Miss  Haas  was  passing  through  the  hall  at  that 
moment,  her  mother,  I  regret  to  say,  behind  her. 
I  spoke  to  the  former,  and  the  little  man  with  the 
violin  fell  into  her  arms.  This,  then,  was  her 
German  lover.  Mrs.  Haas  followed,  and  when 
she  saw  the  sight,  shrieked  aloud.  We  had  scenes 
enough  for  half  an  hour.  The  young  people  fell 
at  her  feet  and  entreated  her  blessing,  but  she 
only  shrieked  the  louder,  and  called  wildly  on 
'  the  dear  professor,'  who,  sad  to  say,  was  then  at 
his  lecture.  I  put  her  to  bed  and  gave  her  pare- 
goric. After  dinner  I  sent  up  a  note  to  the  pro- 
fessor, who  came  down  at  once,  looking  quite 
equal  to  the  occasion,  and  very  pleased  to  see  his 
old  friend  of  the  violin.  Mrs.  Haas  sat  up  in 
state  in  her  rocking-chair  to  receive  him,  and  I 
let  them  have  a  long  session  together.  What 
passed  in  the  little  back  sitting-room  nobody 
knows.  I  think  the  fact  that  the  rich  uncle  had 
died  and  Emil  had  come  into  his  property,  which 
I  administered  with  the  paregoric,  had  some 
effect.  But  whatever  it  was,  in  about  an  hour 
'  the  mother '  walked  out,  leaning  on  the  pro- 
fessor's arm,  addressed  the  penitent  lover  in  a 
dramatic  manner,  and  embraced  the  little  man 
violin  and  all. 


376  MISS  ROBERTS    FORTUNE. 

"After  this,  all  went  merrily.  You  should 
have  seen  the  lover.  His  face  is  music  and 
poetry.  He  plays  magnificently,  and  clasps  his 
precious  violin  and  looks  down  upon  it  with  un- 
speakable things  in  his  eyes.  I  would  be  jealous, 
if  I  were  Miss  Haas.  Yet  he  adores  his  Theo. 
He  sings  sonnets  to  her,  and  gazes  up  to  her 
with  infinite  devotion. 

"  But  this,  my  dear,  is  only  the  beginning. 
We  had  a  wedding ;  and  in  three  days.  There 
was  no  time  to  tell  anybody,  though  I  should 
have  sent  for  you  had  not  your  letter  told  me 
that  you  were  in  the  city  with  Harry. 

"  Miss  Haas  was  stupendous  in  a  white  dress 
(which  she  bought  ready-made).  The  girls  got 
flowers  and  cake.  The  little  man  would  have 
hugged  his  violin  through  the  entire  ceremony 
if  we  had  n't  torn  it  from  him.  They  went  off 
on  the  "  Germania"  the  next  day,  the  mother  as 
happy  as  anybody. 

"  Miss  Haas  left  her  blessing  and  two  of  her 
busts  for  you.  She  parted  from  her  beetles  and 
the  galvanic  battery  without  a  murmur.  It  was 
the  funniest  thing  to  see  .her.  She  was  as  ab- 
sorbed in  the  little  musician  as  she  had  ever  been 
in  Plato. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  377 

"  There  is  ever  so  much  more  to  tell  you 
about  it.  You  must  come  and  hear  it.  The 
spring  is  lovely,  and  we  have  a  pony.  Rufus  is 
not  his  name,  but  he  is  a  nice,  little  black  fellow, 
and  you  will  like  him.  We  want  Harry,  too. 
Tell  him  there  are  acres  of  sketching  for  him. 

"  We  are  missing  the  good  professor.  The 
day  after  the  wedding,  he  left  us  suddenly.  His 
old  friend,  Charley  Erskine,  of  whom  you  may 
have  heard  him  speak,  is  dying  of  consumption. 
He  has  no  friend  nearer  than  the  professor,  who 
was  good  to  him  in  some  way  long  ago,  and  he 
wrote  begging  that  he  might  die  with  him.  The 
professor  left  everything  and  went.  They  are  at 
Fayal  or  thereabouts  now,  and  Mr.  Erskine  fail- 
ing at  last  accounts. 

"  Here  is  the  end  of  my  paper,  and  so  good- 
bye. Deborah  says  let  us  hear  soon  that  you 
and  Harry  are  coming. 

"Yours,          MARIA  PRESCOTT." 


1  If  on  our  daily  course,  our  mind 
Be  set  to  hallow  all  we  find, 
New  treasures  still,  of  countless  price, 
God  will  provide  for  sacrifice." 


CHAPTER    XII. 

HARRY  remained  at  Oxford  through   the 
summer,  but  the  young  housekeeper,  on 
pickles    and    preserves     intent,    went     back    to 

X in  July.     At  least,  pickles  and  preserves 

were  the  reasons  which  she  rendered  for  this 
movement,  and  it  would  have  been  hard  for  her 
to  give  another.  Yet,  pleasant  as  the  visit  had 
been,  she  was  conscious  of  a  certain  weariness 
even  of  dear  old  Oxford.  A  restlessness,  such  as 
she  had  never  felt,  had  come  upon  her  this  sum- 
mer. She  wished  she  could  go  away — far  away — 
to  see  new  sights  and  live  a  new  life.  She  wished 
she  could  do  something  —  something  new,  hard, 
great. 

The  fact  is,  the  young  woman  had  reached 
that  age  at  which  young  women  in  general 
either  marry,  or  teach  school,  or  begin  to  write 
for  the  newspapers.  Neither  of  these  resources 

(380. 


382  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

seemed  open  to  her.  In  fact,  neither  of  them 
definitely  presented  itself  to  her  mind.  Going 
to  Europe  is  a  safe  and  agreeable  opiate  often 
used  in  such  cases.  But,  to  tell  the  truth,  and 
contradictory  as  it  may  appear,  Miss  Roberts 
did  not  care  about  going  to  Europe  this  year. 
She  thought  it  would  be  better  for  her  to  wait 
awhile,  and  read  a  little  more,  and  brush  up  her 
French  and  German.  Besides,  in  the  present 
state  of  the  H.  F.  and  E.'s  (which  had  previously 
taken  a  downward  tendency,  but  would  come  up 
again,  Mr.  Cropper  said),  it  was  clearly  impos- 
sible to  go  as  she  wished  to  go,  and  taking 
Harry. 

But — and  just — here  was  the  rub — it  was  high 
time  that  Harry  should  go.  Professor  Poussin 
had  said  so  more  than  once.  The  gentlemen  at 
the  Academy  had  confirmed  him.  One  of  these 
professors  was  to  spend  next  winter  in  Rome, 
and  had  come  up  to  X ,  before  he  sailed,  ex- 
pressly to  say  that  he  hoped  to  see  Harry  there, 
and  that  Miss  Roberts  would  be  made  most  wel- 
come in  the  little  circle  of  artists'  families.  The 
boy's  progress  really  demanded  this  step.  His 
pictures  had  become  quite  well  known,  and  some 
of  them  had  sold  for  good  prices.  Moreover, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  383 

this  was  what  she  had  always  promised  him. 
His  mind  was  evidently  much  on  the  subject 
now. 

His  bright  eyes  grew  brighter  when  Rome 
was  mentioned,  and  he  pored  over  the  "  Stones 
of  Venice"  and  "  Italian  Painters." 

But  it  would  be  an  expensive  thing  —  the  out- 
fit, the  long  stay  in  large  cities,  the  lessons  under 
foreign  masters,  the  whole  tour  of  the  continent, 
which  must  come  in  somewherq^iuring  the  two 
year's  absence.  Whether  it  would  be  right  to 
let  Harry  go  without  her  into  the  midst  of  a 
circle  of  people  she  knew  little  about,  whether 
his  other  studies  could  be  faithfully  attended  to 
where  all  was  art;  whether,  even  if  the  way 
were  clear  in  other  respects,  she  could  meet  the 
requisite  expense;  whether,  by  any  stretch  of 
economy,  she  could  go  herself;  and  whether,  if 
she  could,  she  must, —  these  were  serious  and 
puzzling  questions. 

She  had  never  denied  her  boy  anything.  In- 
deed, he  had  never  been  obliged  to  ask  for  any- 
thing yet.  But  his  eyes  had  been  pleading  for 
this  all  summer.  It  was  hard  to  say  him  nay. 
It  was  the  harder  because  he  would  be  so  good 
about  it. 


384  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Though  entirely  ignorant  of  the  change  in  her 
circumstances,  and  of  the  sacrifices  she  had  made 
for  him,  the  boy's  heart  was  full  of  grateful  loy- 
alty toward  the  sister  he  had  found  in  Helen 
He  believed  her  right  in  every  thing.  He  ad- 
mired her  beyond  measure.  He  felt  that  he 
could  never  do  quite  enough  for  her.  He  was  a 
proud  boy  and  a  happy  one  when  he  brought 
her  the  hundred  dollars  for  the  first  picture  he 
sold,  and  begged  that  she  would  give  herself 
some  little  things  to  keep  near  her  and  remind 
her  how  he  loved  her.  He  never  knew,  and 
perhaps  the  young  lady  herself  never  fully  knew, 
what  he  had  been  to  her  during  all  this  time. 
When  Mrs.  Moore  gave  him  to  her  that  Febru- 
ary evening,  she  had  given  more  than  the  occu- 
pation and  company  that  Helen  thought  of.  She 
had  given  that  something  to  live  for  which  every 
human  creature  needs,  that  something  to  love 
and  care  for  without  which  a  woman  cannot 
live. 

Burdened,  then,  with  these  cares  about  Harry, 
and  weighed  upon  by  her  own  nameless  malady, 
the  long  summer  days  passed  over  Helen's  head. 
She  pickled  and  preserved,  she  read  her  daily 
"  Tribune,"  she  looked  over  her  autumn  dresses. 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  385 

"  I  am  growing  into  a  horrid,  common-place  old 
maid,"  she  exclaimed  one  day  in  a  fright,  and 
after  that  she  practiced  lustily,  and  lay  on  her 
lounge  with  a  book  in  her  hand,  by  the  hour, 
and  set  up  late  at  night  bending  over  her  old 
German  grammar,  or  the  padlocked-book.  But 
still  the  days  went  stupidly.  Every  body  was 
out  of  X .  There  was  nobody  to  call.  Noth- 
ing happened.  September  brought  Harry  home. 
Helen  thought  she  read  disappointment  in  his 
face.  He  began  his  lessons  at  the  academy 
again.  The  days  were  still  stupid.  Nothing 
happened  yet.  But  all  of  a  sudden,  one  day, 
three  things  happened.  They  were  small  things, 
to  be  sure. 

In  the  first  place,  a  lady  called.  It  was  an 
old  friend  of  Mr.  Saxton's,  a  lady  from  out  of 
town.  She  had  pretty  gray  hair  and  merry  black 
eyes.  She  was  a  capital  talker,  and  spent  a  long 
morning  with  Helen  on  the  library  sofa.  "  We 
had  such  a  charming  winter — all  over  the  South, 
you  know,  and  into  the  queerest  little  nooks  and 
corners.  And — oh,  by  the  way — -do  you  happen 
to  know  of  any  two  girls  who  want  to  do  good 
and  have  a  very  nice  time?  We  found  the  Pe- 
tersons—  two  Philadelphia  girls — very  refined 
17 


386  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

and  cultivated.  They  were  living  in  the  drollest, 
prettiest  little  place,  right  on  the  water,  in  an 
old  hospital  barrack  fitted  up,  teaching  the  freed 
people.  They  were  under  the  care  of  a  charm- 
ing Dr. ,  - — I  forget  his  name — who  lived  two 

miles  away.  They  had  a  large  school,  and  en- 
joyed it  hugely.  They  have  been  there  two 
years,  but  the  elder  is  to  be  married  this  autumn, 
and  Mary  won't  go  without  her.  They  want  to 
find  somebody  nice  to  take  their  place.  I  didn't 
know  but  you  might  know  of  somebody  in 
X ." 

"  I  don't,  I  am  sure,"  said  Helen,  considering  a 
moment,  and  the  lady  passed  on  to  something 
else. 

In  the  afternoon  Helen  went  out  for  a  drive. 
It  was  rather  dull  and  lonely,  and  she  thought 
of  getting  Miss  Hurlburt  or  Susy  to  go  with  her, 
but,  unfortunately,  not  till  she  was  in  quite  another 
quarter  of  the  city,  and  knew  she  could  not  reach 
them  before  tea-time.  As  she  drove  up  to  her 
own  house,  Mr.  Cropper,  with  his  gold-headed 
cane,  came  along  the  avenue.  He  stopped  to 
say  a  word  about  the  H.  F.  &  E.'s,  and  that  be- 
ing finished,  looked  up  to  the  handsome  house 
standing  full  in  the  sunshine,  and  cast  a  contem- 


MISS  ROBERTS  FORTUNE.  387 

plative  eye  along  its  broad  front.  "  A  valuable 
piece  of  property,"  he  remarked.  "A  place  that 
will  sell  well  at  any  time  or  rent  to  great  advan- 
tage. I  had  an  interview  this  morning  with  a 
gentleman  who  wishes  to  rent  a  furnished  house 
on  the  avenue — a  wealthy  man,  able  to  pay  any 
price.  If  you  had  been  going  abroad,  as  you 
once  proposed,  such  a  chance  would  have  been 
worth  looking  at." 

In  the  evening  Mrs.  Mitchell  came  in.  She 
was  just  from  the  sea-side  and  full  of  business,  for 
they  had  decided  to  go  to  Europe,  and  were  to 
engage  passage  in  a  day  or  two.  "  I  came  to 
talk  to  you  about  it,  dear,"  she  said.  "  We  want 
you  to  go  with  us — you  and  Harry.  You  know 
we  enjoyed  Harry  so  much  that  summer  in  the 
mountains.  Katy  has  become  quite  attached  to 
him  at  the  academy,  and  it  would  be  so  pleasant 
for  them  to  keep  along  together  in  their  lessons. 
Then,  my  son,  the  young  minister,  you  know,  is 
going  with  us,  and  he  would  attend  to  Harry's 
studies,  if  you  chose.  He  is  going  to  give  the 
girls  regular  lessons.  Do  go,  my  dear.  We 
shall  all  enjoy  you  so  much,  and  the  change  will 
do  you  good." 

Miss  Roberts  answered  only  in  rather  discour- 


388  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

aging  generalities,  and  promises  to  "  think  about 
it." 

The  fact  is,  she  was  thinking  so  very  hard 
about  it  that  she  was  unable  to  say  any  thing. 

"  I  shall  not  let  you  off  so.  We  shall  see  you 
again,  Katy  or  I,"  said  the  friendly  lady,  leaving. 
She  saw  that,  for  some  reason  or  other,  to-night 
was  a  poor  time  to  press  her  suit. 

Helen  went  up  stairs  as  soon  as  her  visitor 
left,  glad  that  Harry's  slight  head-ache  had  sent 
him  early  to  his  room.  There  was  no  study- 
ing of  the  German  grammar,  or  writing  in  the 
padlock-book  to-night.  She  went  to  bed,  slept  a 
little,  and  waked  to  hear  the  city  clocks  striking 
eleven.  Then  the  katydids  piped  away  undis- 
turbed for  awhile.  The  young  lady  under  the 
down  coverlet  was  not  very  sleepy. 

Suddenly,  like  one  flash  of  light,  the  three 
events  of  the  day  crossed  her  mind.  She  sat  up 
in  the  bed  with  a  sort  of  gasp  at  the  new  idea. 
How  wonderfully  they  fitted  in !  What  a  per- 
fectly simple  plan  grew  out  of  them  !  What  did 
it  mean  ?  Was  there  any  thing  but  that  that  it 
could  mean  ?  Of  course,  the  Mitchells  were  just 
the  people.  Of  course,  the  rent  of  this  house 
and  furniture,  added  to  what  came  from  other 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  389 

sources,  would  be  more  than  enough  to  give 
Harry  a  magnificent  time.  Of  course,  what  was 
left  over  would  be  enough  for  her  there — in  that 
charming  place  by  the  sea — "  quite  out  of  the 
world,  my  dear  ;  no  expenses  at  all,  so  to  speak ; 
why,  the  Petersons  had  actually  lived  under  the 
delusion  that  over-skirts  were  going  out  of  fash- 
ion till  I  came,"  Mrs.  Ames  has  said.  The  quick 
thoughts  flew  about  and  had  the  whole  year 
planned  out  in  five  minutes.  But  suddenly  there 
was  another  flash  and  sharper  than  the  first. 
This  winter — oh  !  she  had  forgotten — she  didn  t 
see  how  she  could  very  well,  just  now.  Away 
down  there  by  the  sea,  too  !  It  must  be  forlorn. 
It  might  be  very  bad  for  her  health.  She  cer- 
tainly ought  not  to  decide  such  a  thing  rashly. 
The  clocks  went  on  striking  all  that  night,  and 
the  katydids  piping  between.  When  the  day- 
light had  put  the  katydids  asleep,  and  the  clocks 
were  striking  seven,  they  might  have  seen,  if 
they  had  eyes  as  good  as  their  voices,  a 
young  lady  at  the  secretary  busily  writing  notes. 
Harry  comes  in,  and  she  lifts  her  face  to  give 
him  his  morning  kiss.  It  is  a  bright  face.  She 
is  feeling  bright  this  morning.  There  may  be  a 
sore  feeling  down  in  her  heart,  as  of  something 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

wrenched  suddenly  away,  and  the  pain  not  quite 
forgotten  yet.  Still,  it  is  wonderful  how  the 
restlessness  has  gone ;  it  is  wonderful  how  un- 
clouded the  eyes  have  grown.  She  finishes  the 
notes,  reads  them  over,  and  seals  them.  One  of 
them  runs  thus : 

"  MR.  CROPPER  :  Dear  Sir, — If  the  gentleman 
whom  you  mentioned  to  me  yesterday  has  not 
found  a  house,  I  think  it  likely  I  can  accommo- 
date him.  Can  he  wait  till  to-morrow  evening 
for  a  definite  offer  ?" 

The  other  is  almost  as  brief. 

"  DEAR  MRS.  AMES, — I  think  I  may  know  of 
somebody  for  your  southern  school.  When  must 
the  work  begin,  about  what  are  the  ordinary  every- 
day expenses  for  the  year,  and  how  long  can  you 
give  me  to  find  out  whether  the  young  ladies  I 

am  thinking  of  will  go  ?" 
i 

The  unconscious  Harry,  on  his  way  to  the 
morning  train,  left  the  notes  at  Mr.  Cropper's 
office  and  at  the  hotel. 

Miss  Roberts  meanwhile  washed  the  breakfast 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  39! 

things  more  speedily  than  usual.  There  was  a 
deal  to  be  done  before  matters  could  be  decided. 
She  had  Rufus  and  the  phaeton  at  the  door  by 
nine  o'clock,  and  drove  first  to  the  doctor's.  The 
kind  old  gentleman  was  just  starting  out  on  his 
daily  rounds,  but  turned  back  to  his  office  wil- 
lingly. 

"  It  is  n't  often  I  get  a  visit  from  a  nice  young 
lady.  Come  in,  my  dear."  And  he  rolled  up 
the  big  chair,  seated  himself  in  it,  and  drew  her 
on  to  his  knee, 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you  a  question,  doctor," 
began  the  young  lady,  a  little  bashfully.  "  I  am 

thinking  of  leaving  X -,  of  going  to  the 

south." 

"  Going  to  get  married  ? — well,  that's  the  way 
with  all  of  them,"  and  the  old  gentleman  pinched 
her  cheek. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Helen,  quickly. 

"  No  ?  Well,  let's  hear  about  it,  my  dear," 
said  the  doctor,  changing  his  tone  in  an  instant, 
and  listening  to  her  story  with  a  kind  and  se- 
rious face. 

"  I  was  n't  sure  whether  you  would  think  me 
strong  enough,"  she  said  in  conclusion,  and  a 
little  faintly. 


392  MISS  ROBERTS    FORTUNE. 

The  doctor  had  quite  a  time  wiping  his  spec- 
tacles before  he  answered.  Then  he  trotted  her 
on  his  knee  as  he  had  done  a  thousand  times  be- 
fore. 

"  The  conies  are  a  feeble  folk,  yet  they  build 
their  houses  in  the  rocks,"  he  said  at  last,  with  his 
pleasant  smile.  "  You're  not  a  Goliath,  to  be 
sure,  and  I  declare,  when  I  think  of  some  of  the 
times  I've  pulled  you  through  when  you  were  a 
baby.  But  you  bore  the  yoke  in  your  youth, 
my  dear.  You  are  well  now — you're  sound- 
sound  as  a  nut.  I've  been  watching  you  now  for 
three  years,  and  I'm  proud  of  you.  You  are 
just  as  well  as  anybody,  and  likely  to  be.  As  to 
climate,"  he  continued,  after  another  series  of 
trottings,  "  I  know  that  region.  It's  a  pretty 
good  one.  There's  no  malaria  abbut  there.  I 
don't  like  a  southern  climate  for  northern  consti- 
tutions, but  for  a  year  or  so,  and  with  proper 
precaution  there's  no  danger.  I  don't  know  that 
I  can,  in  conscience,  say  anything  against  it.  I 
know  Dr.  Curtis,  too.  A  fine  fellow,  and  well 
up  in  his  profession.  He'll  take  good  care  of 
you.  As  for  the  work,  it  won't  hurt  you  if  you 
don't  overdo.  It  does  girls  good  to  work — at 
least,  girls  like  you.  Take  a  little  quinine  occa- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  393 

sionally,  and  don't  let  things  worry  you — that 
kills  more  people  than  anything  else,  and — you're 
a  good  girl,  God  bless  you." 

The  trotting  stopped  suddenly,  and  the  doctor 
got  up,  which  movement  naturally  resulted  in 
Miss  Roberts  getting  down.  He  made  a  rush 
for  his  hat  and  opened  the  door  for  Helen  to 
pass  out.  There  was  no  time  to  thank  him. 
Indeed,  Helen  was  not  altogether  sure  that  that 
very  peculiar  sinking  sensation  within  her  was 
indicative  of  gratitude.  But  by  the  time  she 
had  reached  Shady  street  she  had  lost  a  good 
deal  of  it. 

Susy  Converse  was  at  her  window  and  saw 
Helen  coming,  her  blue  veil  flying  merrily  be- 
hind her.  She  folded  her  work,  came  down 
stairs  and  stood  OR  the  pavement,  as  the  little 
basket-carriage  drew  up.  But  she  was  not  at  all 
prepared  for  the  announcement  that  came  from 
under  the  blue  veil. 

"  Susy  Converse,  I'm  going  on  a  pilgrimage, 
and  I  want  you  to  go  with  me.  Will  you  ?  I'm 
in  earnest.  Just  get  your  hat,  please,  and  come 
with  me  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it." 

Susy  brought  her  hat  and  heard  the  tale. 

This  was  very  much  the  sort  of  thing  she  had 
17* 


394 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


been  looking-  for.  Indeed,  she  had  sometimes 
thought  of  going  south  alone.  She  did  not  care 
for  money  now.  And  with  Helen — of  course  it 
would  be  delightful.  These  were  the  words  she 
said,  and  they  sounded  quite  encouraging.  Her 
tone,  however,  was  not  so  much  so.  It  had  a 
certain  reservation  in  it.  Susy  herself  was  con- 
scious of  it,  and  like  a  spirited  girl  as  she  was, 
a  good  deal  vexed  by  it.  What  if  that  light- 
haired  young  man  did  think  it  strange?  She 
was  sure  he  would.  He  certainly  acted  very  pe- 
culiarly. But  if  he  would  persist  in  calling  on 
Miss  Hurlburt  every  evening,  and  sitting  in  the 
stiff  little  boarding-house  parlor,  till  that  worthy 
lady  almost  fell  asleep,  she  did  n't  know  that  that 
was  any  reason  why  she  should  stay  at  home. 
She  presumed  Miss  Hurlburt  would  be  just  as 
happy  to  see  him  after  she  was  gone.  Besides, 
of  course,  what  were  the  movements  of  a  poor 
sewing-girl  to  him  ?  He  was  the  head-clerk  of 
a  large  establishment,  an  intelligent,  fine  young 
man,  and  received  in  good  society. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  I  will  go,"  she  said,  at  last,  and 
in  a  much  more  satisfactory  tone.  "  You  intend 
to  engage  for  only  one  year?" 

"  That  is  all." 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORT U XI'..  395 

"  Then  I  will  go  if  you  do.  You  may  depend 
on  me." 

"  Thank  you,  Susy.  I'm  sure  I  could  nef  er 
go  without  you,"  and  it  was  Miss  Roberts'  tone 
now  that  was  not  encouraging. 

"  Please  tell  nobody  but  Miss  Hurlburt,  at  least, 
nobody  but  particular  friends,"  she  added,  be- 
thinking herself,  for  she  had  happened  to  meet 
the  light -haired  young  man  calling  on  Miss 
Hurlburt  more  than  once. 

The  head  -  clerk  was  electrified  into  a  much 
longer  call  than  usual  that  evening,  and  the  next 
evening  did  not  inquire  for  Miss  Hurlburt  at  all. 
The  amount  of  it  all  was,  that  Susy,  coming  up 
the  crazy  old  stairs  very  late,  and  creeping  care- 
fully past  Miss  Hurlburt's  door,  was  very  much 
astonished  when  that  good  woman  opened  the 
door  full  upon  her,  and  greeted  her  with  a  hearty 
kiss  and  a  heartier  laugh. 

"And  isn't  it  funny,"  she  said,  five  minutes 
afterwards,  lifting  her  head  from  the  friendly 
shoulder  where  she  had  been  having  a  good 
cry,  "  is  n't  it  funny  that  he  should  have  been 
waiting  all  this  time,  thinking  that  I  wouldn't 
care  anything  about  him  because  he  was  nothing 
but  a  clerk  ?  He  feels  so  sorry  about  my  going 


396 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


away.  Still  we  both  think  it  may  be  all  for  the 
best.  He  will  be  one  of  the  firm  by  the  time 
I  come  back." 

"  Yes,  and  the  years  go  quickly  to  happy 
hearts,"  said  the  dear  old  maid,  making  a  happy 
heart  all  the  happier  for  the  simple  words. 

But  we  are  not  to  neglect  Helen,  who  went 
home  after  that  drive  with  Susy  and  found  an 
answer  to  one  of  her  notes  in  the  shape  of  Mr. 
Cropper  himself  and  the  gentleman  who  was 
looking  for  a  house.  This  seemed  amazingly 
like  business,  and  the  young  mistress  opened  the 
doors  and  showed  her  handsome  apartments 
with  a  strangely  uncomfortable  feeling,  some- 
thing like  what  she  had  always  supposed  home- 
sickness to  be.  It  grew  worse  when  the  gentle- 
man expressed  his  perfect  satisfaction  with  every- 
thing, and  offered  a  liberal  price  should  she  de- 
cide to  let  him  have  the  house. 

But  there  was  no  time  to  nurse  sentiment. 
Mrs.  Ames'  answer  had  come  and  brought  the 
requisite  information.  Miss  Mitchell  had  called, 
Bridget  said,  and  left  word  that  she  was  coming 
again. 

"I'm  glad  I  wasn't  here.  I'm  not  ready  to 
see  her  yet,"  said  the  young  lady  to  herself. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  397 

"  There  is  only  one  more  day  to  work  in.  I  be- 
lieve I  had  better  go  to  Mitty  this  very  after- 
noon." 

She  had  a  short  conference  with  the  girls  in 
the  kitchen,  wrote  a  note  to  Harry,  changed  her 
dress,  packed  a  little  bag,  and  stopped  for  a  mo- 
ment at  the  Mitchells'  door  on  her  way  to  the 
four  o'clock  train.  About  eight,  she  took  her 
tea  with  Mitty,  having  very  much  astonished 
that  worthy  matron  by  her  sudden  appearance. 
Mitty  readily  agreed  to  another  year  away  from 

X .  She  did  not  appear  to  be  pining  for  the 

housekeeper's  life  and  state.  Sairy  Jane  was 
still  feeble,  and  the  grandmother's  annuity  evi- 
dently went  a  good  way  in  the  little  house. 
Helen  slept  in  a  strange  room,  with  a  wonderful 
flowery  fire-board,  and  a  solemn  sense  of  perfect 
newness  over  everything.  She  had  an  early 
breakfast,  and  started  soon  after  it  for  Oxford. 
She  would  not  do  what  she  was  thinking  of  do- 
ing without  consulting  her  best  friends.  Her 
stay  with  them  must  be  very  brief.  She  drove 
up  under  the  elm -trees  about  eleven  o'clock. 
She  must  leave  immediately  after  dinner. 

Miss  Maria,  who  always  busy,  was  yet  always 
at  leisure,  sat  down  at  once  by  her  side  on  the 


398 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


sofa,  took  the  tired  child  right  into  her  arms, 
and  heard  the  unfolding  of  the  new  plans  with 
many  a  tender  caress.  Miss  Prescott  shortened 
her  last  morning  recitation  to  join  the  council, 
and  said  wise  and  comforting,  things  in  her  own 
precious,  quiet  way. 

"  It  is  all  settled  now.  There  is  only  the  get- 
ting ready,"  thought  Helen,  as  they  left  her 
alone  for  a  moment  before  dinner,  and  she  look- 
ed up  into  the  arches  as  she  had  looked  into 
them  from  the  same  window  four  years  ago 
when  she  first  came  to  school.  Ah,  well,  things 
were  new  then.  Things  are  new  now.  I  shall 
go  through  these  as  I  went  through  those.  And 
be  happy,  too  ?  Yes,  and  be  happy,  too. 

She  asked  about  Professor  Wright.  He  had 
not  come  home  yet,  but  was  expected  soon  — 
next  week,  probably. 

"  Please  give  my  good-bye  to  him,"  she  said, 
and  privately  resolved  that  she  would  write  a 
little  letter  and  tell  him  how  sorry  she  was  about 
the  Greek  lessons. 

The  news  of  Miss  Roberts's  contemplated  de- 
parture spread  rapidly,  as  news  would  spread 
even  in  well-bred  X .  Happily,  almost  every- 
body thought  she  was  going  abroad,  and  con- 


MISS  ItOBKRTX  1<  OR  TUNE. 


399 


gratulated,  while  they  politely  deplored,  accord- 
ingly. She  was  wicked  enough  not  always  to 
set  people  right  on  this  point.  Some,  however, 
learned  the  true  state  of  the  case,  and  more  a 
part  of  it. 

"  Katy  Mitchell  tells  me  you  are  not  going 
with  them,"  said  Mrs.  Solomon  Jones,  meeting 
Helen  at  Haberdasher's.  Where  are  you  going, 
dear?" 

"  Oh,  to  '  the  land  east  of  the  sun  and  west  of 
the  moon,'  "  said  Helen,  laughing.  "  I  don't 
know  yet  all  I  shall  do  before  Harry  comes 
home.  I'm  going  to  look  about  a  little  and  see 
what  there  is  out  of  X ." 

"  Yes,  that's  just  it,"  said  the  ready  lady,  sym- 
pathetically,— "  in  search  of  a  new  sensation. 
One  does  get  so  bored  going  over  the  same  old 
track ;  and  you've  been  abroad  once  or  twice,  I 
believe  (which  was  a  mistake,  by  the  way).  *  I 
was  telling  Mr.  Jones  the  other  day  that  I  should 
certainly  die  of  ennui  if  that  Pacific  Railway 
were  not  finished  this  summer." 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Parley  heard  the  news,  of  course. 
By  diligent  and  persistent  efforts  he  had  got  the 
whole  story,  or  as  much  as  she  knew  of  it,  out  of 
Miss  Hurlburt.  He  came  around  at  once.  Morn- 


4QO  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

ing  calls  were  quite  the  thing  at  X ,  and,  if 

they  had  not  been,  the  minister  would  have  call- 
ed all  the  same.  "  Moral  heroism,"  "  nobility  of 
character,"  "loftiness  of  spirit" — these  were 
poor  and  tame  words  to  express  this  gentleman's 
conception  of  the  step  Miss  Roberts  was  about 
to  take.  But  he  was  afraid  it  was  a  mistaken 
zeal.  Would  she  not  consider?  A  young  lady 
so  delicately  brought  up — an  influence  so  much 
needed  in  higher  circles. 

"  We  cannot  spare  you,  Miss  Roberts.  The 
church  needs  you.  I  need  you."  The  brisk, 
little  man  had  grown  very  red  and  excited,  and 
now  clasped  his  hands  and  dropped  pathetically 
on  his  knees  before  her. 

"  Oh,  please  don't,  Mr.  Parley.  Indeed  I  am 
very  busy  this  morning.  I  believe  you  must 
excuse  me.  I  will  see  you  again,"  cried  Helen, 
rising,  arid  almost  as  red  as  the  minister. 

But  Mr.  Parley  did,  and  five  minutes  after- 
wards walked  down  the  avenue  a  sadder  and  a 
wiser  man. 

Miss  Roberts  was  busy  to  be  sure.  Her  school 
was  to  begin  the  very  first  of  October.  Harry 
was  to  sail  with  the  Mitchells  some  days  be- 
fore that.  With  a  hundred  housewifely  cares 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  401 

on  her  face,  and  arrayed,  in  what  Mitty  used  to 
call  "  riggimentals,"  the  young  lady  explored 
the  house  from  garret  to  cellar,  putting  closets 
in  order,  packing  away  choice  things,  and  taking 
an  inventory  of  all  her  possessions. 

One  morning  she  was  sitting  on  the  parlor 
floor  in  the  midst  of  various  piles  of  music,  when 
that  thing  happened  which  often  happens  in 
story-books  and  occasionally  in  real  life.  The 
door  suddenly  opened  and  a  tall  gentleman  walk- 
ed in.  Bridget,  brushing  the  door -blinds,  had 
admitted  him  without  a  word  of  warning.  To 
tell  the  truth,  Miss  Roberts  was  too  pleased  to 
think  much  about  the  "  riggimentals."  The 
"  little  letter,"  though  it  was  a  very  little  and 
simple  one,  had.brought  the  good  professor  down 
to  say  good-bye.  He  could  stay  but  a  few  hours. 
Perhaps  that  was  too  long,  for  she  must  be  very 
busy. 

"  I  am  not  busy  at  all,  so  long  as  you  can  stay," 
she  said,  honestly,  and  was  very  much  ashamed 
of  herself  the  next  instant  for  being  so  ridicul- 
ously honest.  "  There  is  a  piano  in  the  school- 
room, and  I  am  looking  out  some  music  to  take 
with  me,"  she  added,  nonchalantly. 

The  tall  professor  bent  over  the  piano  with  her 


4O2 


MISS  ROBERTS  FORTUNE. 


and  helped  in  the  looking  out.  Then  he  sat 
down  near  her  to  talk.  He  was,  as  usual,  kind 
and  grave,  kinder  than  usual,  indeed :  and 
though  he  seemed  sorry,  too,  about  the  Greek 
lessons,  less  grave  than  she  had  sometimes  seen 
him. 

He  asked  such  friendly  and  interested  ques- 
tions about  her  plans  and  Harry's,  and,  before 
long,  she  found  herself  talking  very  freely  to 
him,  more  freely  almost  than  she  had  talked  with 
Miss  Prescott  and  Miss  Maria. 

He  listened  with  a  face  growing  kinder  and 
kinder.  Somehow  it  seemed  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world  for  her  to  be  telling  him 
about  her  affairs,  and  he  gave  her  very  strongly 
this  morning  that  feeling  of  being  taken  care  of 
that  he  had  given  her  sometimes  before.  The 
brown  eyes  looked  into  his,  child-like  and  con- 
fident. At  the  same  time,  there  was  never  so 
much  womanliness  and  strength  in  them. 

"  It  seemed  the  right  thing  to  do,  and  I  am 
sure  I  shall  enjoy  it,"  she  said,  at  the  end  of  the 
long,  familiar  talk. 

The  professor  rose  and  paced  slowly  up  and 
down  the  long  room  for  answer.  When  he 
came  back,  he  asked  particularly  about  the  com- 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  403 

forts  she  had  provided  for  her  winter.  Had  she 
reading  enough,  and  of  the  right  kind  ?  No ; 
she  must  not  take  her  German  books.  Such 
times  were  no  times  for  hard  study.  She  must 
have  books  of  poetry  and  fiction,  and  plenty  of 
current  literature.  Was  there  a  boat  on  the 
place  ?  Was  Rufus  going  ? 

She  answered  doubtfully  about  Rufus,  but 
Mrs.  Ames  had  said  there  was  a  boat. 

"  And  now  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  sing  for 
me,  if  you  are  not  too  tired.  Some  of  the  old 
Oxford  pieces." 

He  looked  over  the  music  himself  and  found 
them.  "  Only  one  more,"  he  said  at  last,  and  he 
placed  it  before  her.  It  was  that  simple,  sweet 
aria  from  "  Elijah,"  "  Oh,  trust  in  the  Lord,  wait 
patiently  for  Him,  and  He  shall  give  thee  thy 
heart's  desire."  Helen  was  always  very  fond  of 
it,  yet  somehow  she  would  rather  not  have  tried 
it  to-day.  The  words  would  catch  in  her  throat 
a  little  towards  the  last.  Her  voice  would  not 
keep  quite  steady,  and  when  she  was  done,  it  was 
hard  to  look  up  at  once.  Professor  Wright  had 
sat  near  her,  with  his  head  bowed  and  resting 
on  his  hands.  There  was  something  very  quiet 
and  beautiful  in  his  plain  face  as  he  rose,  when 


404  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

she  had  done,  and  stepped  towards  the  singer. 
He  laid  his  broad  hand  on  her  forehead,  and 
then  stooped  and  kissed  her  there. 

"  The  Lord  bless  thee  and  keep  thee  ;  the  Lord 
make  his  face  to  shine  upon  thee  ;  the  Lord  lift 
up  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon  thee,  and 
give  thee  peace,''  he  said,  in  his  solemn  voice. 

It  was  a  face  very  full  of  peace  that  lifted  it- 
self after  a  little  hushed  pause.  It  was  a  voice 
that  had  a  wonderful  quality  of  brightness  in  it 
that  said  : 

"  And  now,  Professor  Wright,  if  you  must  go 
by  that  train,  it  is  time  to  be  moving.  Harry 
and  I  are  going  out  directly  after  dinner,  and  we 
will  take  you  down." 

She  left  him,  and  Harry  soon  came  in.  There 
was  a  quiet  cheeriness  at  that  little  dinner-table, 
that  was  noticeable  even  to  the  waiting  Bridget. 
Nobody  talked  a  great  deal,  but  Harry's  face  was 
bright  with  his  new  prospects,  and  the  two  oth- 
ers had  a  kind  of  calm  sunshine  on  them,  like 
that  which  the  September  fields  showed  without. 

The  carriage  was  at  the  door  when  they  were 
done,  and  they  went  to  the  train  at  once.  They 
said  good-bye  with  clear  and  quiet  voices.  The 
professor  dropped  into  the  first  seat  in  the  car  he 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  405 

entered,  and  looked  out  to  see  the  waving  of  a 
small,  brown-gloved  hand,  and  Harry's  merry 
bow  as  he  moved  away. 

All  through  the  day  and  all  through  the  week, 
that  peace  remained  on  Helen  Roberts'  face.  Her 
eyes  kept  that  clear,  deep  look.  Her  voice  kept 
that  wonderful  quality  of  brightness.  Harry  had 
never  seen  so  much  in  her  face  to  love  as  when 
he  looked  at  her  last  from  the  deck  of  the  Ocean- 
tea,  and  wiped  the  not  unmanly  tears  from  his 
handsome  eyes. 

The  Mitchells  said,  "  How  bright  she  looks  ! 
I  hope  she  will  enjoy  it  as  much  as  she  expects 
to." 

"  You  needn't  tell  me,"  said  Miss  Hurlbnrt  to 
her  clock  and  her  kittens,  the  night  after  the  girls 
had  started,  "  you  needn't  tell  me.  If  ever  any- 
body was  being  set  apart,  and  made  meet,  and 
led  right  straight  along,  it's  that  dear  child. 
Such  a  light  as  there  was  in  her  face  to-day,  and 
such  a  voice  !  I  know  very  well  that  such  clear 
skies  don't  come  without  some  thunder-storms. 
And  yet  I  don't  understand  it.  His  ways  are 
past  finding  out  sometimes.  And  there's  that 
good  man.  Why,  I  saw  how  it  was  just  as  plain 
as  daylight.  I  saw  it  in  his  face  the  minute  I 


406  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

spoke  her  name.  And  when  she  came  in,  how 
he  watched  her,  and  how  hungry  his  eyes  looked  ! 
I've  seen  such  things  before.  And  she,  little  un- 
conscious lamb,  never  thought  of  such  a  thing ! 
But  I  know  how  'tis  well  enough,  for  when  I  told 
her  how  I  liked  his  sermons,  her  face  grew  just 
as  bright  and  rosy  and  her  eyes  shone,  and  she 
didn't  say  a  single  word.  Such  a  blessed  good 
man  as  he  is,  too  !  I  declare  it's  a  mystery  to 
me.  But  I  guess  the  Lord  knows  his  own  busi- 
ness. He's  taken  care  of  you  for  pretty  nigh 
fifty  years,  Jerushy  Hurlburt,  and  it's  a  pretty 
time  of  day  for  you  to  begin  to  distrust  him 
now." 

Helen's  own  thoughts  the  next  day  on  the 
windy  deck  of  the  southward  bound  steamer, 
were  not  unlike  Miss  Hurlburt's  of  the  night  be- 
fore. Only  she  did  not  express  them  in  just  the 
same  way.  She  was  not  altogether  conscious  of 
them  as  her  own  thoughts  at  all,  but  singing 
through  her  head,  all  the  morning  long,  went 
the  words  of  one  of  her  favorite  poems : 


"  The  wind  ahead,  the  billows  high, 
A  whited  wave  but  sable  sky, 
And  many  a  league  of  tossing  sea 
Jktwccn  the  hearts  I  love  and  me. 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  The  wind  ahead  :  day  after  day 
These  weary  words  the  sailors  say ; 
To  weeks  the  days  are  lengthened  now — 
Still  mounts  the  surge  to  meet  our  prow. 

"  Through  longing  day  and  lingering  night 
I  still  accuse  Time's  lagging  flight, 
Or  gaze  out  o'er  the  envious  sea, 
That  keeps  the  hearts  I  love  from  me. 

'  Yet,  ah,  how  shallow  is  all  grief ! 
How  instant  is  the  deep  relief ! 
And  what  a  hypocrite  am  I, 
To  feign  forlorn,  to  'plain  and  sigh  ! 

'  The  wind  ahead  ?     The  wind  is  free  ! 
Forever  more  it  favoreth  me — 
To  shores  of  God  still  blowing  fair, 
O'er  seas  of  God  my  bark  doth  bear. 

'This  surging  brine  /do  not  sail, 
This  blast  adverse  is  not  my  gale  ; 
'Tis  here  I  only  seem  to  be, 
But  really  sail  another  sea  ; 

'  Another  sea,  pure  sky  its  waves, 
Whose  beauty  hides  no  heaving  graves — 
A  sea  all  haven,  whereupon 
No  hapless  bark  to  wreck  hath  gone. 

'  The  winds  that  o'er  my  ocean  run 
Reach  through  all  heavens  beyond  the  sun  ; 
Through  life  and  death,  through  fate,  through  time, 
Grand  breaths  of  God  they  sweep  sublime 

'  Eternal  trades,  they  cannot  veer 
And  blowing,  teach  us  how  to  stoer. 
Ah  !  well  for  him  whose  jov,  whose  care, 
Is  but  to  keep  before  them  fair. 


407 


4o8  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

"  Oh,  thou,  God's  mariner,  heart  of  mine, 
Spread  canvas  to  the  airs  divine  ! 
Spread  sail  !  and  let  thy  Fortune  be 
Forgotten  in  thy  Destiny  !" 

"  So  life  must  live,  and  soul  must  sail, 
And  Unseen  over  Seen  prevail, 
And  all  God's  argosies  come  to  shore, 
Let  ocean  smile,  or  rage  and  roar. 

"  And  so,  'mid  storm  or  calm,  my  bark 
With  snowy  wake  still  nears  her  mark  ; 
Cheerly  the  trades  of  being  flow, 
And  sweeping  down  the  wind  I  go  ?" 

Over  and  over,  over  and  over,  to  the  music  of 
the  engine  as  it  pulled  steadily  on  through  the 
resisting  water,  she  said  the  words  to  herself: 

"  Ah  !  well  for  him  whose  joy,  whose  care, 
Is  but  to  keep  before  them  fair. 


"  Cheerly  the  trades  of  being  blow, 
And  sweeping  down  the  wind  I  go  ?" 

She  was  alone,  except  for  a  few  gentlemen, 
with  her  hat  tied  tightly  down  by  her  blue  veil, 
and  her  water-proof  wrapped  about  her.  Susy 
was  not  much  of  a  sailor,  and  if  a  brand  new 
photograph  of  a  pleasant-faced  young  man  (which 
she  was  observed  to  cover  up  whenever  anybody 
approached)  be  supposed  to  be  good  company, 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  409 

was  not  much  in  need  of  Helen's  society  in  her 
state-room. 

After  dinner  people  began  to  creep  out.  More 
gentlemen  came  with  bad  cigars  and  worse  poli- 
tics. Handsomely  dressed  ladies  came,  shivered 
a  few  minutes,  and  went  away.  Strong-minded 
looking  women  came,  planted  themselves  firmly 
on  the  little  slippery  stools,  and  remained.  One 
of  them  who  sat  near  Helen  and  had  very  dingy 
fingers,  made  a  desk  of  her  traveling-bag  and 
began  to  write.  Others  opened  wise-looking 
books  and  read.  Two  plain  women,  who  did 
none  of  these  things,  but  sat  wrapped  in  their 
long  water-proofs,  and  occasionally  exchanged  a 
quiet  word  together,  attracted  Helen's  attention 
singularly.  She  found  her  eyes  drawn  toward 
them  often.  There  was  something  familiar  in 
their  plain,  good  faces.  Presently  she  became 
conscious  that  they  were  speaking  of  her.  Their 
eyes  met  again,  and  one  of  them  rose  and  came 
toward  her.  Of  course,  she  knew  them  then. 
They  were  Miss  Smith  and  Miss  Peck,  of  Plato- 
ville  memory.  How  oddly  familiar  their  little 
ways  and  sayings  seemed  !  How  old  it  made 
her  feel !  They  were  on  their  way  South,  too. 
They  had  been  three  years  now  in  "  the  work." 
18 


410  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

Two  simple,  hard-working,  useful  women.  Miss 
Smith,  behind  her  spectacles,  wore  a  happy  face. 
Miss  Peck's  wistful  eyes  looked  satisfied. 

"  Do  tell  me  about  Platoville,"  said  Helen. 

They  told  about  the  new  church  and  the  iron 
fence  around  the  common. 

"  How  is  Mr.  Green  ?" 

Miss  Smith  and  Miss  Peck  looked  at  one  an- 
other in  a  kind  of  horror. 

"  Haven't  you  heard  ?"  at  length  said  Miss 
Smith,  under  her  breath. 

"  I  have  heard  nothing  since  I  left  there." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Green  —  he's  been  two  years  in  the 
penitentiary.  It's  a  dreadful  thing." 

"  What  did  he  do?"  asked  Helen. 

"  He  was  accused  of  forgery.  I  believe  they 
didn't  prove  that  against  him,  but  he  was  com- 
mitted on  a  charge  of  selling  prize  boxes  contain- 
ing counterfeit  ten-cent  pieces  and  poisonous 
candy.  He  will  be  out  next  year." 

"  It  was  a  great  shock  to  the  entire  commu- 
nity," said  Miss  Peck. 

"  What  has  become  of  Mrs.  Green  ?"  asked 
Helen. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Green  died  a  year  before  this  hap- 
pened." 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


411 


"  And  Mary  ?" 

"  Mary  ran  away  from  home  with  a  young  fel- 
low who  came  up  from  the  city  one  summer. 
He  turned  out  to  be  a  scoundrel,  and  she  lives  a 
miserable  life." 

"And  Bobby?" 

"  Bobby  is  the  worst  boy  in  the  village.  Every- 
body is  afraid  of  him.  He  is  as  wild  and  bad  as 
a  boy  can  be."  , 

"  '  The  mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly,  but  they 
grind  exceeding  small/  "  thought  Helen.  "  I'm 
glad  that  poor  woman  is  at  rest  any  way." 

That  night  they  steamed  into  a  region  of  storms. 
The  wretchedness  of  the  next  twenty-four  hours  ! 
The  weariness  of  that  gray,  rough  water  that 
looked  in  through  their  little  window.  The 
pitchings  and  the  tossings.  The  despair  with 
which  the  girls  sat  and  looked  at  each  other,  as 
their  hair-brushes  and  boots  and  all  the  smaller 
articles  of  the  toilet,  chased  each  other  across  the 
state-room  floor,  and  their  traveling-bags  resisted 
all  attempts  at  packing. 

Susy,  who  had  a  way  of  coming  out  strong 
under  difficulties,  was  the  first  to  rally,  and  was 
as  helpful  as  possible  to  Helen.  They  were  to 
reach  their  destination  at  three  o'clock  in  the 


412  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

morning.  The  stewards  fairly  carried  them 
down  the  pitching  stair -case,  and  deposited 
them  tenderly  among  sacks  of  meal  and  mo- 
lasses casks. 

Out  on  the  pier  in  the  cold,  gray  morning  — 
the  waves  plashing  loudly  all  around,  the  wind 
blowing,  the  lighted  steamer  making  off  in  its 
heavy  way  as  fast  as  possible  ;  —  not  another 
creature  that  suggested  life  to  be  seen  or  heard. 
The  girls  sat  down  on  their  trunks  and  looked  at 
each  other. 

"  We  are  on  a  raft,  floating  off  to  the  end  of 
the  world,"  said  Susy. 

But,  presently,  there  was  a  tramp  of  horses  at 
the  end  of  the  long  pier.  A  black  spot  appeared 
in  the  gray,  and  out  of  the  dimness  came  a  high 
wagon  with  two  figures  on  the  front  seat,  and 
shawls  and  wraps  hanging  from  it  in  grotesque 
confusion. 

"  So  sorry  to  be  a  moment  late,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, coming  out  with  a  bound.  "  Miss  Roberts, 
I  presume,  and  Miss  Converse  ?  Bundle  your- 
selves right  in,  ladies.  Here,  you,  two  trunks. 
Chilly  mornings,  very,  and  a  dreadful  place  to 
get  to,  this,  I  don't  doubt  yon  are  thinking. 
Now,  will  you  come  to  breakfast  in  a  bachelor's 


MISS  ROBER  7\S"  FOR  TUNE.  4  j  3 

quarters,  or  will  you  go  to  Aunt  Hepsy,  in  your 
own  barracks?" 

The  girls  preferred  to  go  to  any  place  that 
they  could  call  their  own.  Aunt  Hepsy  had  a 
bright  little  fire,  a  cup  of  tea,  and  plenty  of  fresh 
water.  "  Now,  honeys,  better  not  look  'round 
till  you've  been  to  sleep.  Time  enough  for  that 
when  you  get  rested." 

So,  when  the  gray  streak  in  the  east  was  be- 
ginning to  be  touched  with  pink,  and  the  birds 
were  just  waking  up,  the  tired  girls  crept  into 
their  little  white  beds. 

It  was  a  late  breakfast-hour  when  Helen  came 
out.  Susy,  thrifty  little  soul,  was  up  before  her, 
and  doing  what  she  could  to  give  a  home-like 
look  to  things.  The  round  breakfast-table,  with 
a  white  cloth,  stood  before  an  open  window. 
There  was  nothing  like  a  vase  to  be  found,  but 
Susy  had  filled  a  cup  and  saucer  with  morning- 
glories,  and  aunty's  toast  and  tea  gave  out  invit- 
ing odors.  It  was  droll,  as  Mrs.  Ames  had  said. 
The  rough  pine  boards  of  the  old  barracks  had 
been  smoothed  and  oiled,  and  were  adorned  here 
and  there  with  small  pictures  and  mottoes  that 
the  Petersons  had  left.  There  were  some  rough 
book-shelves  waiting  to  be  filled.  There  was  a 


414  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

matting  on  the  floor,  and  a  lounge  with  a  calico 
cover,  across  the  corner  by  the  fireplace.  The 
woodbine  made  the  prettiest  of  curtains  at  the 
windows.  Out  of  these  windows,  on  the  one  side, 
Helen  saw  the  long,  low,  unpainted  school-house  ; 
on  the  other,  the  blue  waters  of  the  bay.  Before 
the  door,  which  opened  directly  out  of  the  room, 
stood  a  high  pole  with  a  heavy  bell  attached  at 
the  top,  to  be  rung  by  an  arrangement  somewhat 
like  an  old-fashioned  well-sweep. 

"And  where  is  our  parish?"  said  Helen. 

"  Right  out  here,"  and  they  went  to  the  door. 

Susy  pulled  a  spray  of  honeysuckle  from  above 
their  heads  and  twined  it  lovingly  in  her  friend's 
hair.  Helen,  resting  both  hands  lightly  on  Su- 
sy's arm,  stood  with  the  pretty,  clinging  grace 
that  was  all  her  own,  looking  out  on  the  strange, 
new  scene  —  across  the  sparkling  water,  along 
the  line  of  dark  pine  woods,  over  settlements  of 
little  brown  houses,  back  to  Susy's  friendly  eyes. 
"  My  dear,  I  think  we  shall  be  very  happy  here. 
Now  let  us  have  some  breakfast." 

The  girls  were  very  happy.  In  the  first  place, 
there  was  the  novelty,  and  the  picturesqueness, 
and  the  richness  every  way.  When  the  old  well- 
sweep  first  performed  its  solemn  duties  under 


MISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE.  4x5 

Susy's  inexperienced  hand,  and  the  children  came 
flocking  as  thick  as  huckleberries  in  answer  to  the 
bell,  the  animation  of  the  young  teachers  knew 
no  bounds.  The  old  barracks  filled  up,  almost 
instantly  with  eager,  curious  faces.  It  was  so 
altogether  entertaining  to  get  the  little  scraps  of 
personal  history  out  of  them  as  their  names  went 
down  in  the  big  record-book.  It  was  so  alto- 
gether impossible  to  remember  their  names.  To 
call  upon  Violetta  Victoria  Penelope  Jackson, 
looking  hard  at  a  certain  individual  in  a  certain 
corner,  and  have  the  individual  looked  at  meekly 
rise  and  declare  herself  to  be  Britannia  Aurelia 
Maria  Johnson,  while  the  silent  apparition  of 
Violetta  Victoria  loomed  up  in  a  distant  part  of 
the  room  :  this  was  simply  an  event  of  hourly 
occurrence  for  the  first  few  days. 

Susy  was  invaluable  in  the  school-room.  She 
had  a  thorough  understanding  of  school  machine- 
ry, and  was  mistress  of  a  thousand  arts  and  de- 
vices by  which  to  make  things  run  pleasantly 
and  smoothly.  She  marched  the  pupils  out  and 
in  in  a  wonderful  way,  while  Helen  played  "  Hail 
Columbia"  with  all  her  might  on  the  asthmatic 
old  piano.  She  got  up  the  most  delightful  gen- 
eral exercises,  and  gave  object-lessons  for  which 


4i 6  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

the  pupils  brought  daily  a  diverting  variety  of 
"objects."  Helen,  for  her  part,  devoted  herself 
to  the  three  R's  and  to  the  general  business,  and 
for  the  first  few  weeks,  at  least,  inclined  to  the 
opinion  that  teaching  was  the  most  delightful  em- 
ployment in  the  world. 

Altogether,  a  volume  might  be  filled  with  the 
rare,  and  curious,  and  funny,  and  pathetic  things 
the  girls  saw  and  heard  that  winter  in  their  little 
parish.  But  I  have  no  idea  of  inflicting  such  a 
volume  on  my  gentle  reader. 

There  were  things  outside  of  the  people  and 
the  work  to  be  enjoyed.  The  country  was 
charming,  notwithstanding  the  lack  of  hills.  The 
girls  brought  home  armfuls -of  yellow  jessamine 
and  trumpet-creeper,  when  the  snow  lay  over  the 
northern  fields,  and  their  room  was  fragrant  with 
roses  at  Christmas.  Helen  had  no  time  to  miss 
Rufus,  for  about  a  week  after  she  arrived  the 
doctor  rode  over  one  day  with  a  white  pony  be- 
hind him.  The  pony  had  been  sent  for  Miss 
Roberts,  and  Uncle  Tom  was  to  keep  him  close 
by.  A  letter  the  next  morning  told  more  about 
him. 

"When  a  man  six  feet  tall  and  a  grave  old 


M2SS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

theologue  at  that,  comes  into  possession  of  a  little 
white  pony,  pray  what  is  he  to  do  but  to  get  some 
of  his  friends  to  take  it  off  his  hands?  I  hope 
you  and  Silver  will  like  each  other  well,  and 
have  some  pleasant  times  together,  and  I  think 
you  will  pardon  me  if,  in  my  desire  that  this 
should  be  so,  I  have  taken  a  liberty." 

Then  the  water,  right  out  of  their  windows — 
always  there,  never  the  same.  Sometimes  it 
was  a  sheet  of  blue  and  silver  —  sometimes  a  liv- 
ing sapphire —  sometimes  flashing  steel.  Some- 
times it  was  black  and  angry,  with  the  white- 
capped  waves  tumbling  over  each  other  in  a 
tumult.  Sometimes  it  was  a  dull  gray,  silent  as 
death,  and  the  mist  lying  like  a  thin  veil  over  its 
cheek.  Sometimes,  at  sunset,  it  was  clear,  pure 
gold  ;  again  it  was  mother-of-pearl.  Sometimes 
the  little  oyster-boats  went  out  of  the  bay,  their 
sails  all  tipped  with  rose-color.  Sometimes  they 
were  white -winged  birds,  flying  home  on  the 
evening  breeze.  There  was  inexpressible  com- 
fort and  company  in  it,  and  the  girls  learned  to 
watch  it  and  know  its  moods  as  one  does  those 
of  a  favorite  child. 

Everybody  was  so  good  about  letters,  too. 
1 8* 


4 1 8  AfISS  ROBER  TS'  FOR  TUNE. 

Quite  out  of  the  world,  though  they  were,  their 
friends  in  the  world  did  not  forget  them.  Dear 
Miss  Prescott  had  never  written  such  long  and 
delightful  letters.  Miss  Maria  had  the  most 
amusing  things  to  tell.  Miss  Hurlburt  really 
neglected  her  kittens,  and  devoted  all  her  spare 
moments  to  getting  down  the  news  for  the 
girls. 

A  few  words  in  a  letter  from  Lily,  one  day, 
made  Helen  very  thankful  and  happy.  "  And, 
Helen,  dear,  I  want  to  tell  you  what  first  made 
me  think  so  much  more  about  these  things.  Do 
you  remember  the  words  you  said  to  me  one 
night  in  my  room,  before  I  was  married?  I 
never  forgot  them.  I  kept  thinking  of  them, 
and  could  not  banish  them  from  my  mind.  At 
last  I  told  Henry  all  about  it,  and  we  resolved 
that  we  would  begin  together,  and  try  to  lead 
better  lives.  He  has  helped  me  so  much,  Helen, 
and  I  try  to  help  him,  too ;  and  this  precious 
little  baby,  that  God  has  sent  us,  will  help  both 
of  us." 

Dora  also  wrote,  and  more  than  once.  She 
was  still  at  the  head  of  her  flourishing  school. 
"  But  next  year,"  she  said,  "  I  want  to  go  there 
with  you.  Father  is  doing  so  well  that  there  is 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

no  need  of  my  making  money,  and  I'm  going  in 
now  for  variety  and  fun.  You've  no  idea  what 
a  capital  school  ma  'am  I  am,  so  don't  refuse  my 
services  till  you've  tried  me.  You  wonder  why 
you  don't  get  any  of  those  tracts  now-a-days. 
You  need  n't  be  saucy,  Miss.  The  fact  is,  two 
or  three  years  of  good  hard  work  is  the  best 
cure  I  know  for  some  kinds  of  fevers.  I  still  go 
in  for  equal  pay  and  property  privileges,  and  all 
that ;  but  when  it  comes  to  talking  about  wom- 
an's mission  and  woman's  work, —  there's  enough 
of  that,  in  all  conscience,  and  I'm  not  anxious  to 
add  to  it." 

Besides  the  letters  there  were  papers  and  pe- 
riodicals and  books  of  all  kinds.  How  they  did 
come  in !  All  the  new  books  that  were  worth 
reading,  all  the  best  magazines,  all  the  illustrated 
papers.  Helen's  table  had  never  been  so  full  of 
them.  The  greater  number  of  these  things  bore 
the  Oxford  postmark,  and  were  directed  in  a 
large,  familiar  hand.  One  or  two  letters  in  the 
same  hand,  also  came  during  the  winter,  and 
such  good  letters.  Not  long,  but  with  a  great 
deal  in  them  ;  not  learned,  but  full  of  the  choicest 
wisdom  ;  not  funny,  but  brightening  one  up  in- 
describably—  touching  everything,  books,  poli- 


420  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

tics,  local  gossip,  even,  with  a  bold,  strong  hon- 
est pen,  and,  above  all,  with  a  delightful  sense  of 
friendliness  all  through  them. 

It  would  seem  that  it  might  have  been  a  happy 
winter,  and,  indeed,  it  was.  Sometimes,  how- 
ever, there  would  be  weary  days.  Sometimes 
there  would  come  a  sinking,  hungry,  utterly  des- 
olate feeling.  Peace  is  sweet,  yet  human  hearts 
can  know  more  joyous  things  and  sometimes 
cry  out  for  them. 

At  these  times  the  best  cure  was  to  go  off 
over  the  water  in  the  little  boat,  alone,  except 
for  the  quiet  oarsman,  and  under  the  pitying, 
bending  heavens.  For  hours  they  would  sail  on 
and  on. 

"Not  quite  yet,  Uncle  Tom, —  don't  take  me 
back  quite  yet, — it  is  so  beautiful  out  here." 

Sometimes  they  would  go  quite  across  the  bay 
to  the  old  cemetery  among  the  pines.  This  was 
a  favorite  place  with  both  the  girls.  The  paths 
were  tangles  of  rich,  trailing  vines.  The  trees 
were  hung  with  long,  heavy  moss.  The  desert- 
ed graves  lay  desolate,  and  the  eternal  sea  sang 
at  their  feet. 

Here,  sometimes,  Helen  would  sit  for  hours, 
the  sea  and  the  pitying  heavens  speaking  softly 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  421 

to  her  soul.  And  peace  would  come  back, — 
that  peace  which  was  to  be  her  portion  now, — 
that  peace  which  ought  to  make  her  life  so  rich 
and  sweet. 

Susy,  in  these  hard  times,  as  at  all  times,  was 
the  best  and  kindest  of  friends.  Her  own  heart 
had  its  joys  and  sorrows,  too.  The  letters,  which 
came  almost  every  day  (and  had  Haberdasher 
and  Williams  on  their  envelopes  now),  were  un- 
doubtedly very  welcome ;  but  she  would  sit 
sometimes,  long  after  reading  them,  and  look 
out  with  a  grave  face  over  the  sea.  It  was  al- 
most too  bad  to  come  away  just  then.  It  was 
pretty  hard,  and  Charley  had  certainly  been  very 
good  about  it. 

One  morning,  after  the  brief  southern  winter 
was  fairly  over,  when  they  had  had  the  summer 
birds  with  them  a  month,  and  roses  and  honey- 
suckle's were  on  their  breakfast-table,  Susy's  let- 
ter wars  longer  than  usual,  and  left  a  strange, 
flushed,  half- pleased,  half  -  troubled  look  on  her 
face  after  the  reading. 

Helen,  who  had  nothing  but  a  newspaper  this 
morning,  and  was  lazily  sipping  her  coffee,  could 
not  help  noticing  the  look,  and  all  the  more 
when  Susy  tried  very  hard  to  be  unconscious, 


422  Mfss  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

and  said  something  carelessly  about  being  glad 
that  it  was  Saturday.  The  flush  deepened  and 
the  trouble  increased  at  Helen's  glance,  and,  at 
length,  Susy  rose  hastily  and  went  to  the  door. 
Once  the  reserved  Miss  Roberts  would  have 
thought  it  intrusion  to  inquire  into  the  matter. 
As  it  was,  she  hesitated  a  little,  but  presently 
followed  her  friend  to  the  door. 

"  What  is  it,  Susy  ?  Is  it  any  thing  you  can 
tell  me?" 

Susy  turned  around,  kissed  her,  cried  a  little, 
laughed  a  little,  and  finally  opened  the  letter 
and  showed  her  a  page. 

"  There,  you  may  see  what  he  says.  Of  course, 
I  sha'n't  do  it,  though." 

Helen  read,  her  face  growing  bright  and 
pleased  : 

"  Now,  Susy,  I  afn  going  to  ask  a  very  great 
thing  of  you.  I  hope  you  will  be  willing  to 
grant  it.  I  am  to  go  South  on  business  for  the 
firm  next  month,  I  shall  stop  and  see  you,  of 
course,  and  I  want — I  want  very  much,  dear 
Susy — to  take  you  home  with  me.  Now  don't 
be  shocked  and  say  it  is  impossible,  the  first 
thing.  Just  think  of  it,  please.  I  know  you  are 
a  sensible  girl,  and  have  no  foolish  ideas  about 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 


423 


millinery  and  that  sort  of  thing.     Never  mind 

about  that.    There's  plenty  of  that  in  X ,  you 

know.  And  I  can  have  our  little  house  all  ready 
for  you.  I  have  seen  one  to-day  that  is  just  ther 
thing.  If  it  were  not  so  near  the  end  of  the 
term,  I  would  not  ask  so  great  a  favor  of  Miss 
Roberts,  but  it  seems  to  me  she  can  get  along, 
somehow,  through  the  remaining  six  weeks. 
Don't  you  think  she  can  ?  Please  ask  her  for 
me." 

"  Of  course,  I  sha'n't  do  any  such  thing,"  reite- 
rated Susy,  when  Helen  looked  up.  "  In  the 
first  place,  I  would  n't  leave  you  for  anything." 

"  Of  course,  you  sha'n't.  Of  course,  you  shall, 
my  dear.  I  can  get  along  beautifully.  I'll  give 
the  little  classes  to  Violetta,  and  attend  to  the 
rest  myself.  Why,  you  have  no  idea  how  smart 
I  am.  You've  done  so  much  that  you've  given 
me  no  chance.  And  it  will  be  the  nicest  thing. 
I  shall  have  a  chance  to  wear  my  finery,  and 
what  a  day  it  will  be  for  the  little  brown  houses. 
I  shall  write  to  Mr.  Williams  myself  this  very 
day.  And,  Susy, —  do  you  see  now  what  that 
lavender  poplin  was  for  ?" 

So  Susy  did  it.  The  minister  from  across  the 
bay  sailed  over  in  a  little  white  boat  to  perform 


424  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

the  ceremony.  The  doctor  came,  of  course. 
The  school  children  crowded  around  the  little 
room,  and  looked  in  at  the  low  windows.  The 
bride  and  bridegroom  stood  before  one  of  the 
woodbine  curtains,  and  the  blue  water  made  a 
pretty  back-ground.  Out  of  the  door,  under 
the  trees,  the  long  tables  held  generous  supplies 
of  cake  and  candy  for  the  whole  little  community, 
and  if  ever  anybody  has  a  prettier  wedding,  may 
I  be  there  to  see. 

After  Susy  had  gone,  Helen  was  wonderfully 
brave  and  light-hearted.  School  went  on  well, 
and  everything  prospered.  Hard  work  suited 
her  she  believed.  She  was  as  happy  as  a  child. 

But  towards  the  close  of  the  term  troubles 
came ;  real  and  serious  troubles.  The  summer 
grew  hot  and  oppressive.  The  rains  delayed  to 
come.  The  south  wind  blew  fiery  and  pestilent. 
Sickness  crept  into  the  little  community,  fever 
of  a  malignant  kind.  There  was  death  in  some 
of  the  little  brown  houses  almost  every  day. 
The  school  grew  very  thin,  but  Helen  had  the 
bell  rung  every  day,  and  the  few  children  that 
collected  were  left  under  the  care  of  Violetta, 
while  she  and  Silver  were  on  their  sad  and 
weary  rounds  through  the  hot  and  crowded 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  425 

alleys  of  the  wretched  little  settlement.  Tales 
of  misery  and  horror  grew  familiar  to  her  eyes 
and  ears,  new  and  hard  lessons  were  to  be  learn- 
ed in  these  dreadful  days.  The  doctor  came 
over  and  took  up  quarters  in  an  unappropriated 
apartment  of  the  school-house.  He  worked  hard 
and  faithfully  for  the  suffering  people.  He  look- 
ed carefully  in  Helen's  face  every  morning,  felt 
her  pulse,  and  gave  her  occasionally  some  little 
preventive.  But  through  all  this  fearful  time  she 
was  perfectly  well,  and  very  brave  and  happy. 
For  three  weeks  the  sickness  continued.  Then 
the  blessed  north  wind  came  and  brought  a  heal- 
ing breath.  The  long,  sad  lines  of  mourners 
walking  across  the  burning  fields  to  the  little 
cemetery  grew  less  frequent.  The  sick  ones 
crept  out  into  the  air  and  light.  The  school  filled 
up.  The  doctor  told  Helen  good-bye,  and  rode 
off  home  again.  There  were  only  one  or  two 
lingering  cases  now,  and  Helen  knew  perfectly 
well  what  to  do  for  them.  The  trouble  was  over, 
and  Helen,  with  a  heart  all  the  braver  for  its 
thankfulness,  took  up  the  remaining  work  of  the 
term. 

The  doctor  had  been  gone  but  a  day  or  two, 
when  Helen  lay  on  her  lounge  one  evening  with 


426  MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

a  fresh  "Atlantic"  in  her  hand.  She  had  been 
trying  to  read,  but  the  sweet  odors  and  the 
softened  sounds  of  the  summer  evening  had 
something  in  them  to  keep  her  mind  awake,  and 
she  found  the  next  day  that  only  a  leaf  or  two 
had  been  cut.  Aunt  Hepsy  was  sitting  on  her 
kitchen  door-step  singing,  the  sea  flashed  with  a 
low,  pleasant  sound  against  the  shore,  and  she 
heard  the  distant  whistle  of  the  evening  steamer 
coming  down  the  bay.  She  thought  of  the  mail 
it  was  bringing.  It  was  time  to  hear  from  Ox- 
ford again.  What  had  become  of  Miss  Pres- 
cott? 

It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock  when  there  came 
a  knock  at  her  door.  "  Uncle  Tom  to  tell  me 
that  that  poor  baby  is  dead,"  thought  Helen  ; 
"Come  in."  And  the  door  opened.  But  it  was 
not  Uncle  Tom. 

"  Oh,  Professor  Wright !"  The  professor  did 
not  say  a  word,  but  put  down  his  little  black 
bag,  crossed  the  floor  at  a  stride,  and  took  both 
her  hands  as  she  rose  to  meet  him.  "  Why,  how 
astonished  I  am,  and  how  glad  I  am,"  said  Helen, 
with  a  face  like  sunshine.  "  Did  you  come  on 
that  boat?  And  I  was  wondering  if  it  had  any 
letters  for  me." 


MISS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE.  427 

There  are  times  when  it  is  n't  easy  for  a  man 
to  speak,  and  then  the  professor  was  naturally 
awkward,  as  we  know  very  well.  All  that  he 
seemed  capable  of  was  to  utter  one  or  two  inar- 
ticulate words  at  first,  and  then  to  ask  questions. 

"Are  you  well?"  he  said,  looking  deep  down 
into  Helen's  brown  eyes. 

'*  Yes,  sir,  perfectly  well,"  said  Helen,  growing 
suddenly  a  little  nervous,  and  very  much  at  a 
loss  for  anything  to  say  by  way  of  filling  up  the 
pause  that  ensued. 

"  Are  you  very  glad  to  see  me  ?"  looking  still 
deeper. 

"  Yes,  and  I'm  going  to  prove  it  by  getting 
you  a  cup  of  tea,"  said  the  young  lady,  starting 
off.  The  professor  protested. 

"  Oh,  I  know  all  about  those  steamboat  sup- 
pers. Do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  have  my 
friends  come  to  see  me  and  not  offer  them  the 
hospitalities  of  my  humble  cabin.  Aunty — " 
and  she  vanished. 

Helen  was  very  busy  and  very  lively  when 
she  came  back,  and  aunty  dropped  her  deepest 
curtsey  at  the  stranger  when  she  came  in  with 
the  toast  and  tea.  It  was  a  cosy  little  repast  at 
the  round  table  in  the  corner.  The  professor  re- 


428  MfSS  ROBERTS'  FORTUNE. 

covered  from  his  dazed  condition  and  ate  and 
drank  like  a  hungry  man  that  he  was,  and  told 
the  latest  news  from  Oxford,  and  stated,  a  little 
to"  Helen's  surprise,  that  he  had  not  delivered 

those  lectures  in  X last  winter. 

After  tea  they  had  a  long  talk.  When  at  last 
he  rose  to  go  (aunty  had  made  a  place  for  him  in 
the  doctor's  deserted  quarters),  the  good  man 
once  more  laid  his  hand  on  Helen's  brown  hair, 
and  kissed  and  blessed  her  on  the  forehead. 
Then,  throwing  a  strong  arm  around  the  slender 
figure,  "  I  would  not  tell  you  these  things  a  year 
ago,"  he  said,  "  because  I  so  honored  and  rever- 
enced in  my  heart  the  loving  spirit  that  had 
taken  this  service  upon  itself,  I  would  not  dis- 
turb it  by  a  perhaps  unwelcome  thought  of  me. 
I  thought  that  God  would  have  me  share  the 
sacrifice  by  giving  up  this  great  desire  and  hope 
one  year  longer ;  and  I  prayed  Him  that  if  He 
willed  to  give  me  this  blessing,  He  would  keep 
my  treasure  for  me." 

THE  END. 


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